Living Among The Shadows
by rexlover180
Summary: "Assassins don't quite care for statistics. That's why we work in the shadows, those in the light are too pure to act when it's not fair to the other side. We'll win…at any cost." Alfred and Matthew were raised to be assassins loyal to the king, but a group associated with the revolutionary army seems intent on shaking up the bond. But dependency can be a dangerous thing. USUK.
1. Immortals

Chapter 1. Immortals.

A figure was slouched in a dark room, biting his thumb nail in concentration as he stared at the screen in front of him. He memorized the faces, partly because he had to and partly because he knew he had to remember them. Or they would be forgotten. His eyes burned, but he was used to worse pain than that. He hadn't slept in three days, but he'd been through worse. He could rest once this job was over. It did come directly from the king, anyway. He would do anything for the king. He swiped the screen to look at the next face. There were so many this time. It would be a good stretch.

"Alfred." A voice said behind him, sounding far from amused and the lights in the room turned on. Alfred hissed with a smirk. "Food." The voice smirked from the doorway. Alfred glanced back at him with a small smile playing on his lips, his glasses drooped after looking down at the screen for so long. He was slumped on his bed, the one right next to his brother's after they had pushed them together the moment they could. It was his brother who stood in the doorway, the one that turned on the cursed light. He looked pretty damn well pleased with himself, too, knowing just what to say to get Alfred out while using the least amount of words possible.

"I'm still bringing this," Alfred grumbled in defeat, picking up the little, portable screen. Matthew, his brother, laughed beside the door. As Alfred passed him, they high-fived, holding their hands together for little over a second, both of their grips strong, as if testing to see who could break the other's hand first. Alfred loved his twin brother, more than anything, more than the king. "Race ya there!"

And they were both off, through the metal corridors, laughing and pushing each other against the walls, hard enough so that a normal person's bones would have cracked with the force. The twins were practically identical, they both had golden blonde hair that was always a pain in the ass to hide on missions and the same build and more or less the same face. Matthew's hair was longer, though, and it was obvious he took better care of it. And while Alfred's eyes were a light blue that rivaled what the skies used to look like in old movies and pictures, Matthew's were a shimmering indigo, hidden by glasses as well, which were long ago thought to have lost meaning. Neither held a color that betrayed the killing intent that always lingered behind them. Even while they smirked and raced each other through a door that slid open for them, but not fast enough.

Matthew was able to easily sneak into the small opening, but Alfred found himself in the unfortunate position of being on the wrong side of the door. He used his free hand to stop himself from running into it and, as a result, there was a heavy dent in the metal door, which now clanked loudly, as if it was broken.

"I won," Matthew smirked, poking his head out of the door for a fraction of a second before disappearing back inside.

"This time," Alfred chimed. "How about the 38 other times I was able to beat you?" He walked into the room with grace once the door finally opened and it closed loudly behind him.

"Way to go, fat ass, you broke it again," an ally laughed from the table in the room. It was simply a room for them to cook what they pleased and eat their fill, it had been in place for years, thanks to the king. They never ran out of food or supplies. The table was big enough for six, though only one person was in there, lounging back on his seat. He was relaxed, way too relaxed if you asked Alfred, his feet propped up on the table and his hands laced behind his head.

"Get your feet off the table, Gil," Alfred groaned. Why did he, of all people have to be there first? Matthew just giggled and moved to the kitchen. Gilbert smirked that usual smirk when he saw Matthew, the one Alfred's brother said was full of good intent but Alfred knew was filled with evil intent. The kind that involved Gilbert luring Matthew to his bed.

"Aw, c'mon," Gilbert cackled, a strange sound Alfred never really got used to. He was creepy all around, with white hair and red eyes, he was an albino, but that was strange, considering most deficiencies like that were fixed before a kid was born. It made Alfred wonder if Gilbert was in a similar situation to him. "I was just relaxing, waiting for all you slow pokes."

"Yeah, well, not all of us can get up at 3 in the morning to jog around the facility," Alfred rolled his eyes. "What the hell kinda habit is that, anyway? It's fucking creepy that you're up before anyone else." He slumped onto a chair on the other side of the table to Gilbert. Sadly, Alfred already knew where Matthew would sit, the empty spot right next to Gilbert. Alfred would have taken that spot, if he didn't completely detest being next to the man.

"Says the guy that hardly sleeps," Gilbert smirked as Alfred looked back at his screen, memorizing the faces, the contours of the way they smiled. He predicted just what they would look like when they screamed. "Ya know…we're gonna have to get past this hatred thing, considering how close your brother and I have gotten recently. And I mean…_really_ close." Alfred flinched.

Alfred opened his mouth to say something in response, but the door clanked open, cutting him off. His brother also attempted to say something, unbeknownst to both men at the table.

"Of course you three are first," a woman giggled from the doorway before skipping in happily, sending a death glare at Gilbert as she did. She was the only girl on their team, but she didn't mind at all. In fact, she seemed to take it as a challenge, training even harder than Gilbert. "Jackass," she said to Gilbert.

"Cow," he said right back. She happily flicked her long, light brown hair, her green eyes glinting with mischief. She still hid that stupid frying pan behind her back, the only reason Gilbert never tried anything against her, pranks or otherwise.

"Alfred, did you break the door again?" a man sighed, following after Elizabeta as she sat down beside Alfred, messing up his already mussed hair.

"Maybe," Alfred shrugged, not looking up from the faces he was memorizing. Roderich was most likely the weakest fighter of all of the team, but he made up for it with his medical expertise. He had midnight black hair that he always neatly combed and gelled and bright purple eyes. He wore glasses, but never on an assignment. They were only for show and for "sophisticated air", they would only hold him back in actual combat.

"Still memorizing those faces?" Elizabeta hummed, leaning heavily on the table.

"If I don't remember 'em, who will?" Alfred muttered, staring at the face of a little kid. He didn't let his face betray the emotions bubbling inside of him. Emotions of pity. He wasn't supposed to feel that way, he was supposed to be able to swallow that kind of thinking.

"Alfred, I do not want to fix this door again," the last member of their team said as he walked through the door, which was now stuck halfway open. Alfred laughed slightly, going to the next face now that he had memorized the kid.

"Sorry, Kiku," Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "I could try to help, but that didn't work so well last time…so…"

"Yeah, we all know your only skill is killing," Gilbert smirked and Alfred glared at him. Yes, that was true, but it wasn't a bad thing like Gilbert made it out to be. Kiku, the last member, was short, but incredibly agile and extremely good in a fight. Alfred sparred with him all the time when he wanted to get stronger. He had pitch black hair and eyes the never sold out any emotion, which Alfred was jealous of. He was always told that his blue eyes were so expressive, even by the king. He had worked so hard on his steely gaze that he used most of the time.

"It's fine, Alfred," Kiku sighed as he took a seat with Roderich. Both of them were kind to the seat Gilbert was obviously reserving for Matthew, who was in the process of ensuring that the food he made was perfect for everyone. Matthew usually never said much, not even to Gilbert. Alfred took pride in the fact that Matthew talked to him the most. "I will work on it tomorrow. Perhaps then you will have gotten a good rest."

"Can everyone freaking tell when I don't sleep?" Alfred groaned, looking up from the faces. "I mean, seriously, I'm not supposed to be obvious."

"And we were trained to see what's not obvious," Elizabeta chimed happily, finger in the air as if it was made of all authority.

"Whatever," Alfred grumbled as Matthew came over with a few large plates of breakfast food piled high. Anything from pancakes to eggs to bacon to sausage to hash browns. It was a feast fit for a king, but considering all of the intensive training all of them went through every day, they all ate massive amounts. Even Roderich, who ate all prim and proper, ate way more than it looked like he could.

"Matthew, it was fantastic as always," Roderich complimented after the last speck was cleaned from the last plate in front of them.

"Thanks," Matthew blushed slightly, partly from the compliment and partly from Gilbert's arm, which was wrapped around his shoulders. "I figured we needed a big breakfast considering our assignment in a few hours."

"It shouldn't be too hard," Alfred shrugged, finding that he was at the last face to memorize. "It's not very many people, just a small group in a city, nothing to worry about."

"What's wrong with 'em, anyway?" Gilbert asked curiously. "What's the king want with them?"

"I don't need a reason to go after them," Alfred said. "If the king wants it done, I'll do it. My guess is they're in league with the revolutionary army. What else could it be?"

"Conspirators," Elizabeta shrugged.

"It does not appear as though any of them are of any notable bloodline," Kiku noted. "So that means they must not have much influence. I don't believe they'll be missed."

"Then let's get going, so we can get it over with," Alfred stood up. He was the designated leader of the group. Apparently he had some kind of quality for it. The king thought that, so who was Alfred to argue with him? He was the one that reported the assignments after they were done to the king, so it at least came with some perks. "We'll be back in just a few hours, it's in an nearby city after all."

"I'm ready whenever you are," Matthew nodded. Alfred nodded right back.

* * *

"Please! Please! I-I'll do anyth-"

Alfred looked on coldly. He had memorized this man's face first, but he was among the last to be killed, how odd. He begged, screaming and crying after his wife and son were killed in front of him by Alfred himself, who didn't care. He kept his steely blue gaze right on the man's eyes as they dulled. He was killed by a gunshot direct to the heart. He heard the splatter of blood behind him as Kiku slashed into several people at once. Alfred could hear a little kid crying and he sighed, walking towards the sound. He could hear it over all of the others, the swipes of swords, the bangs of guns, the screams.

A kid was huddled in a corner and looked at Alfred with absolute horror and fear. The other sounds died out, almost all at once. This was the last one to kill.

"It's your fault for going against the king," Alfred said simply, not even hesitating as he blew a hole straight through the little girl's head. Every person here was guilty of a crime he could not forgive; they crossed the king. He would kill anyone that went against his king, he owed that much to the man…no he was so much more than a simple man. He looked back at the other five. All of them had managed to get sticky, warm, scarlet all over themselves, but no one got even a scratch. This job wasn't even that bad, only a few could have handled it just fine, but the king apparently felt like showing off. This town had had quite a few incidences like this, where there were large groups going against His Majesty. Perhaps this was just showing an example of what he could do without even lifting a finger.

"Mission complete," Alfred said, holstering his gun. He kept his eyes steely every time they left the facility, even in front of His Majesty. He had to, he was a murderer anywhere but where he called his home. "Let's head back."

* * *

"Targets confirmed," a voice said from the shadows, looking on at the six through a sniper rifle. They were hundreds of yards away, just to be safe, just in case they were noticed so they had a way to get away. They were going after the most dangerous assassins in the world, after all. "Should we go after them?"

"No, not yet," another voice muttered, crouching low and looking in that direction as if he was seeing what the sniper saw. His own group stood behind him, just in case they needed the back up.

"Why not?" another voice snapped and the other voices hissed at him to be quiet.

"Let them go back to their king. We'll start another one and this time we'll be prepared. I trust you managed to get enough information on their weapons and fighting styles?"

"Yes," said the first voice.

"Good," the second voice continued. "Now, we'll learn how to deal with this situation. If we have to take them out one by one, then so be it. They're our main obstacle in the way of killing the king. We need to be careful."

"If you don't mind me saying this…" the first voice mused. "I think we're outmatched."

"Assassins don't quite care for statistics, you should know this," the second voice smirked. "That's why we work in the shadows, those in the light are too pure to act when it's not fair to the other side. We'll win…at any cost."

* * *

**Woop! New story! I'm excited for this one, as you can probably tell. Hehehe. Anywho…The title for this chapter was based on the song "Immortals" by Fall Out Boy, I just adore that song, you have no idea. And it works quite well, I hope you realize. I got a lot of my inspiration for this by watching Akame ga Kill, but don't worry, I am making my own differences, one of them being that this is off somewhere in the distant future, probably on a planet that is not Earth but still houses humans, so we don't have to focus on countries and what may have happened to them. **

**Pairings. Well…obviously PruCan's up there already, then there's USUK, which is gonna be the main pairing. Arthur has yet to be introduced, but not to worry, that will happen soon enough. And a dash of AusHun, but they're not gonna be mushy or incredibly obvious about it, I mean, it's Elizabeta, after all.**

**Warnings…Well, you could guess if it's based even slightly on Akame ga Kill. There will be character death. Maybe a little, maybe a lot, that's a secret that's staying with me. But you have been warned. There is also gore, but not necessarily explicit gore, this is still rated T, after all, and will stay that way. References to explicit content as well…Then, you know, cursing. All that jazz.**

**I will also give ages of people as they pop up, just so people know. So, Alfred, Matthew, Kiku, Elizabeta, Roderich, and Gilbert are all 23. Because making them all the same age means they play nice or some other bullshit as an excuse for me being lazy. The other characters have a little more variety when it comes to their ages, don't worry.**

**Also, updating schedule. I have no problems writing, it's just school's a bitch and so I can only update Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so I generally update all three, sometimes just two.**

**And I would just like to say this…Some of you may not know this, but we recently lost an incredible, awesome, creative mind recently, Monty Oum from Rooster Teeth. So, as a tribute to someone like him who valued creativity as much as all of us, I know it's not a lot, but I'd at least like to dedicate this creative work to him, as nothing else but a show of the importance of creativity in this world.**

**I believe that is all, so here I go…please review, tell me what you thought!**

**And I do not and never will own Hetalia.**


	2. Light 'Em Up

Chapter 2. Light 'Em Up.

Alfred was perfectly still, unwilling to move unless told to do so by the person sitting in front of him. He was given orders, ones that he had to obey, for no other reason than for loyalty. He listened to every detail carefully. The words were coming from the man in front of him, no matter what he would say, Alfred would memorize the words and keep them in his head for eternity.

"Do you understand the details of your mission?" the king asked clearly.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Alfred said, still unmoving from his place, kneeling before the throne. He had been in more uncomfortable positions for much, much longer than this.

"Bring only two others with you," the king said and Alfred nodded minutely. "We don't need the whole team out this time. It's a small uprising."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Alfred said once again. It was silent in the room for a short while. The king let out a sigh and Alfred obediently stayed where he was. The king was very stressed, he was a man with a lot of responsibilities and Alfred would have pitied him if he was a lesser man. However, the king was a man that garnered all of the respect that he deserved and, as far as Alfred knew, he would only ever show a weakness like this around him or Matthew. Knowing that gave Alfred quite a bit of pride and he let a small smile show on his face, since there was no one else in the room.

"You may leave," the king said after a short while and Alfred obediently stood up immediately. He looked at the king, but never in the eye, only to show his respect with a bow of his head before he turned to leave. The king looked as he always did, Alfred had long since memorized his face, his silvery white hair slightly mussed and partially hidden underneath his crown, which Alfred had come to understand he didn't like on his head. His eyes were a dull, stressed violet and every time Alfred saw them, he longed to assist the king in any way that he could. He was dressed lavishly, as usual, though Alfred also knew that he didn't quite like that either.

Alfred would do anything in his power to make king Ivan's life as easy as possible. Even if that meant killing anyone the man pointed at.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alfred said as he left the room. He hated forcing all kindness from his eyes in front of the king, but Ivan had once said that it made Alfred look weak. He could never look weak in front of him. So he kept his gaze steely as he walked through the familiar building. It wasn't the castles from history that most kings lived in, it was a very sleek, modern building that Alfred had completely memorized, including the air ducts. Soldiers stood every few feet apart and servants moved back and forth feverishly to ensure all of their duties were accomplished. Everyone there knew Alfred well. They knew the entire team of assassins, however, Alfred was the only one that made regular visits to gain information about the next assignment.

This one was to be done as soon as Alfred gathered his team, evidently. There was a small uprising in a town a small distance from the capital, where this building stood at the center. It was only small and so the king only wanted three members of the team to go. Alfred thought, as he left the building, of who to take. Naturally, he would take his brother with him, but then the question arose of who else to take.

Roderich and Elizabeta only worked well when they worked together, that was a weakness that they shared, so he could not take them. Gilbert was out of the question, not only due to Alfred's slight animosity towards the man, but also for the fact that he was the most recent person to enter their team and he lacked proper experience for something like this. That only left Kiku, then. He was a good fighter that could obey orders and stray from them only when necessary and never allow emotions to interrupt his thoughts. He would be a good match for this assignment.

Alfred walked into the cold, smog-filled air (the building had a filter, as most buildings in the capital did, due to the amount of pollution in the area), growing accustomed to the contrast of the outdoors very quickly. The building where his group stayed was not far from the center of the capital. He walked in just a brisk walk. He was sure that it wouldn't take much to quell this rebellion, especially once they started killing a few of the people.

Within minutes, he reached the building and quickly punched in the security code on the pad that enabled him to open the door. The door slid shut behind him and he breathed in the air from the filter, which wasn't quite as good as the king's, but that much was expected. It was much quieter inside as well. Outside, there were people and cars in every direction and the walls acted as a nice barrier to have some peace and quiet. As soon as the door was closed, Alfred allowed himself to relax, his demeanor and his steely gaze.

"Hey, Matt!" Alfred called as he walked through the main hallway. There were six rooms, one of which was vacant due to Alfred and Matthew sharing a room, and a kitchen at the end of the hallway. Each room had its own bathroom, for which Alfred was fairly thankful for. "Kiku!"

"Big, fancy mission from the king himself?" Gilbert teased, his own door sliding open before Matthew opened the one for the room he and Alfred shared.

"Yes," Alfred said easily. Kiku's door opened a second later and he looked at him in interest. "The mission's going to be done as soon as possible, so gather supplies and we'll head out. It's a small uprising in a town to the north, we are not to be seen, understood?"

The two nodded before disappearing into their rooms.

"Think the revolutionaries are involved?" Gilbert asked. "That's the same place we attacked just a few days ago, right?"

"Yes," Alfred said, walking to his room with Matthew. He only had a pistol on him and he needed a few more supplies for a mission like this. Especially if the small uprising grew once panic started with deaths occurring. "If they are involved, we will just kill them."

"Well, don't die, then, I guess," Gilbert snorted before his door closed as he walked away. Alfred entered the room he shared with Matthew. In one of the closets, Matthew was already going through some of the weapons they had, storing them in inconspicuous places.

"Was he still as stressed out as last time?" Matthew asked, storing a small knife in his sock and covering it expertly with his pants.

"I think a little more," Alfred sighed, slumping on the bed and running a hand through his hair. "I wish I could help a little more, you know? I mean…he's always just doing so much."

"Well, if this is going to help with some of the stress, I'm happy to go along," Matthew smiled back at him and Alfred gave a small smile in return.

"I just feel like I'll never return the favor for what he did for us," Alfred admitted before standing and picking out a few of the pistols they had. They were sleek and small, but powerful and quiet, so they were perfect for a mission like this. He checked the bullets in them, despite the fact that the king had ensured that they were reimbursed for their last mission. The bullets were made from the same materials the swords and knives were, almost like lasers, meant to hurt anything that it touched. Which was why, even while they hid the knives and swords, the blade would only appear at the press of a button. Alfred rarely wound up using the blades, usually preferring to use guns over anything else.

"I don't really think there's a way to do that," Matthew smiled softly before standing up. "In any case, I'm ready when you are."

"My guess is we'll be back in maybe two hours, max," Alfred sighed as he stood up. "The king has us on a shuttle to get there, so 10 minutes to travel there and back and as much time as we need to make sure everyone's calmed down."

"Or we can just kill everyone," Matthew joked as he walked to the door. "That gets people calm really fast."

"You're hilarious," Alfred rolled his eyes, picking up the small screen on his bed and checking to make sure that all of the faces he had to memorize were going to be on there. Thankfully, they were, and he smiled as he followed Matthew out of their room and into the hallway, where Kiku was already waiting for them. "Alright, let's get this over with."

* * *

A man sighed from where he stood in a very, very small alleyway, watching the events unfold that he started himself. He winced every time he saw blood. He didn't want to make the public go through this, but it would save more lives in the long run. he just had to remind himself of that every time he saw another innocent man fall at the hands of a soldier.

"You should just stop watching if it hurts you so much," another man chuckled behind him and the first one rolled his eyes before turning back to glare at him.

"If I'm responsible for this, then I would prefer that I know the outcome," the first one snapped.

"Of course, Arthur," the second man laughed lightly. The first man, Arthur, simply moved his head back to look at the mess unfolding in front of him. Both men were about the same size, the second one, Francis, was a little taller.

Arthur had ragged blonde hair that he was currently covering with a hood just to ensure that he wasn't seen around here. Everyone in their group was hiding themselves well so that they couldn't be recognized anywhere else. His eyes were a bright, emerald green, that gave off a harsh glare to the soldiers. Francis had blonde hair as well, though it was longer and obviously better groomed, which annoyed Arthur to no end, and bright blue eyes that would have seemed innocent, if Arthur hadn't known what the man had already been through. He had been forced to dress dully, mostly due to their mission involving staying hidden.

"They should come here any minute," Arthur muttered. He knew that, even with a small uprising like this, the soldiers couldn't handle it themselves. The king would send in his lackeys, surely. Though not all of them, it was still small. Arthur guessed about half of them would show up. This would be a perfect chance. He knew from watching them for long periods of time, that there were two that went on nearly every mission; the twins. They were special cases that Arthur wanted to avoid for as long of a time as possible. He didn't know much about their situation, but he could tell clearly by looking at them that they were not only incredibly lethal, but also completely devoted and Arthur honestly couldn't tell why. With those two in mind, there could only be one other person that came with them, out of four. They would just have to hope that they could get that person. They didn't want to kill them, but they would if they had to. Their best hope would be to take them into custody and…hopefully…change their minds about their predicament.

"What do you intend to do to get the twins out of the way?" Francis asked.

"I distract them," Arthur sighed. "Hopefully Feli and Lovino can handle taking the last one, if they do bring three. This whole mission is just based on assumptions anyway. That's what I dislike the most about it."

"You have Antonio as backup, just in case," Francis chuckled, patting his back. "He's the best sniper I've seen."

"I'm sure if the twins wanted to be snipers, they could be better," Arthur muttered under his breath. "Rather, if the king wanted them to be snipers."

Suddenly, one of the rebellious citizens fell, a bullet through their forehead. Arthur jumped just slightly, as he had been distracted before the moment, but now he was on high alert, looking minutely in all directions to see if he could spot the culprits as more people dropped.

"They do work rather quickly," Francis snickered from where they stood and Arthur rolled his eyes. That was when Arthur could see, hidden behind a few buildings just a short ways away, was one of the men in the group, not one of the twins. It was the smaller one, with black hair, that generally preferred to use a sword.

"Dammit," Arthur cursed. "I had hoped they would have brought one of the others. This one will be more difficult."

"Would you have preferred that they brought the albino?" Francis smirked and Arthur scoffed. He had to keep looking for the twins. He had to distract them so that everyone else could do what they needed to do in this plan. It was turning into chaos a lot faster than he had thought. Every shot that hit was expertly done, hitting either perfectly in the center of their forehead or the center of their heart with every shot. They had no mercy.

Arthur had his gun at the ready in his hand just in case he had to go on the defensive with anyone, whether that be an assassin or a soldier nearby. From what he could tell, it really was only those three with only Kiku in plain sight, which meant Arthur was in plain sight if he wasn't careful.

"We need to move," Arthur said and moved further into the alleyway with Francis, moving them through the small spaces between the buildings of the town. Now, they couldn't see Kiku, but they had a chance of seeing the other two. Arthur sighed heavily as he continued to search quickly. One bullet missed and nearly hit him, but firmly hit the corner of a wall he was on and he immediately ducked behind the wall. "What the hell? They don't miss."

"Unless someone made them miss?" Francis offered with a shrug. Then, in a crackle through the earpiece firmly in his ear, he heard something he definitely did not want to hear.

"_We've got one, sir!_" that was Feliciano's chipper voice and Arthur felt his stomach drop.

"What the hell did you do?" Arthur snapped at him.

"_I got one of the twins, just like you ordered_."

Arthur's eyes went wide and he glanced back at Francis, whose face of terror mirrored his own.

"Are you bloody serious?" Arthur muttered under his breath. Firstly, how the hell did Feli and Lovino manage to actually get one of the twins, especially in a mission like this? Secondly, what were they to do now that they had one of the two most devoted people in the world to king Ivan in their custody? The king would go after them, surely, and their captive would definitely do their damnedest to get away. "Feliciano, make sure he cannot move and will not wake up, however you managed to obtain him. Don't wait for us. I repeat, do not wait for us. Take him back as fast as you can to the hideout. We will meet you there."

"What are we doing now?" Francis asked.

"Now we make even more of a distraction," Arthur sighed. "If they're both still alive, that means the other twin didn't notice. We still have a chance to get away with this. Now we just have to hope that we got the quieter twin."

* * *

**Yay! Chapter two and we have a little bit of Arthur. He is, in essence, in league with the revolutionaries. They don't have as cool of a name as Night Raid from Akame ga Kill, I don't even think they have a name in the first place. Anywho, they had a plan, which went awry, thanks to poor Feli. Now you know, more or less, who all is in the revolutionary army thingy, but you'll get a better look next chapter! Also, those sword things that I described, I kind of think of them like lightsabers, if you ask me. And I imagine them as red blades, which I will probably write out later anyway.**

**Also, I wanted to update this so much sooner in the day, but FanFiction was being weird with it's servers or whatever, so sorry about that! I really would have updated so much sooner!**

**Ages! Arthur is 24, Francis is 19, and Ivan is 45. (BTW, this is, like, the second time, I've made Ivan double the age of everyone else. But I need him to be this old for reasons…Sadness….)**

**Anywho, I believe that is all, so I will leave you with this; please review! I'll love you forever and ever and ever!**


	3. Arms Race

Chapter 3. Arms Race.

Matthew breathed evenly from where he was perched on the top of a building, aiming his gun perfectly at someone who was fighting with everything they had against a soldier trying to calm them down. Matthew fired easily enough and the person fell in less than a second. Matthew moved to aim at the next person. Just as his finger was about to press the trigger, however, he clearly saw something roll on the ground at the base of the building he was at. He cursed under his breath and quickly moved, jumping to an adjacent building just before the little grenade exploded. He held up his arm to shield his face from the debris, which clanked to the ground around him. He gritted his teeth.

Someone knew where he was. But how? He hadn't exactly been paying much attention to his surroundings since this seemed like such a small quarrel, but it seemed like there was someone a little smarter behind this. Matthew moved again before he even saw the next grenade. He could clearly see Kiku, who was running through the forest of buildings, occasional shots from what seemed like a sniper rifle gliding past him. Matthew bit his lip. He didn't have the time to look around for the location of a sniper he didn't even knew existed, especially while someone was throwing grenades to distract him. Matthew glanced around but couldn't see his brother. He hoped that he was smart and decided to go ahead to their agreed meeting point already. Matthew fired off a few more shots, hitting the most violent people in the crowd, before jumping off the building and disappearing into the darkness of the alleyways. It wasn't long before he was a few miles away from the town, but he could still hear some of the chaos, that was already calming down. At least he managed to do his job.

After a few moments, Kiku jogged up to him.

"Do you know what happened?" Matthew asked.

"They appeared to know where we were," Kiku shook his head. "It was foolish for us to assume that there would be no threats on this mission."

"It's been a while since we've had any other assassins on a mission," Matthew muttered, glancing around. "Did you see Alfred?"

"No, I thought you were the one with the better line of sight on him," Kiku said.

"I'm sure he'll come around," Matthew sighed, checking on the bullets in his gun, just in case. He replaced some of his used bullets before looking around casually. They were in a dank, run down part of town. Their shuttle that would take them back to the capital wouldn't arrive for another 10 minutes, it would take about one to get to the shuttle before it left 5 minutes after its arrival. Alfred would be there by then, Matthew was sure of it. "Since they knew we were there, we can assume that this was a set up. A risky move from the revolutionaries, considering it meant killing so many people. What would they have wanted?"

"They were not acting as if to kill us," Kiku said. "Perhaps they just wanted to see our level of skill?"

"They wouldn't have distracted us, then," Matthew muttered. He was getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Alfred was never this slow. "If he doesn't show up, we can assume they distracted us to mask his capture."

"Capture?" Kiku seemed startled, though relaxed slightly upon thinking about how realistic the idea was. "What purpose would there be to capture Alfred?"

"I'm not going to try to get into their heads," Matthew sighed. "Whatever their reasons, I'm sure this means that they wanted to start something. They knew Alfred would show up on any mission, if they have been watching us, which is perfectly possible, especially if they have a sniper with them."

"You will have to report this to the king," Kiku said, in a rather small voice. Matthew felt a small pit grow in his stomach. God, he hoped Alfred would arrive. If he didn't…Matthew would go to the king instead, the king would know something would be wrong. What would happen? Would Matthew be disciplined? It would make sense, without Alfred around, Matthew would be in charge.

"It must have taken a high level of skill, even if they did manage to capture him alive," Matthew sighed, choosing not to focus on that line of thought for very long in the first place. "I'm sure the people we are going against are a highly skilled, cohesive team. Even if Alfred evaded capture, they will remain a problem for some time. We will need to keep that in mind."

Kiku nodded wordlessly and they waited for a few minutes. With every second that passed, Matthew felt more and more like he was about to throw up. Alfred didn't show up. They waited as long as they possibly could, narrowly missing their shuttle, but Alfred did not show up. He would never miss their way back to the capital, no matter what happened. He was definitely captured. And Matthew was going to get him back, one way or another.

* * *

Alfred woke up. That was the strange part. Last thing he knew, he was on a regular mission, shooting down a riot for the sake of the king…and now we was waking up. He was immediately on edge and didn't open his eyes, keeping his breathing even. He focused his hearing around him, but found that he couldn't hear anything, not even a breath. He was alone in this room, which seemed to be small, judging by how the sound of his breathing reverberated. He wasn't tied up or anything, which was odd, considering this was most likely at the hands of the enemy, most likely the revolutionaries.

The most important question rose now. Why was he captured? What purpose did this serve? No one should know that Alfred, or any of his team for that matter, existed. How was he spotted from where he was? Unless someone was looking for him. Someone knew that he was going to be there and used that to their advantage, meaning someone must have been watching him and his group for quite some time. He would have to be more careful once he got back to the capital. He just had to hope that his brother wasn't too worried about him.

Alfred carefully opened his eyes just to make sure that no one was in the room with him. He sat upright once he knew he was alone, finding himself in a simple room with only a bed and a simple glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Alfred carefully observed it but found that it didn't seem like anything was done to it, but decided not to touch it. Whoever took him into their custody were rather stupid, leaving him alone, untied, in a room with a door that seemed easy to open. What was their game?

Alfred was quickly on his feet and checked himself over. They had found and took all of his weapons. Well…nearly all of them. There were the few that they, of course, didn't know about. Alfred's secret weapon, which always came in handy. He was still in the clothing he had been in before, so he wasn't extremely alarmed. He crept towards the door and found that it was locked, the keypad to unlock it most likely on the other side of the door. Alfred smirked. Already time to use his secret weapons.

* * *

"You were the one that didn't give clear orders!" Lovino snapped and Arthur sighed heavily, his head in his hands. They were back at headquarters, which was really just a small building with a few rooms, a kitchen, and tiny living room, where nearly all of the team was at. Feliciano was in the kitchen making food, as that was his stress reliever and he desperately needed it, especially after his big mess up on this mission.

"It doesn't really matter," Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck. "None of the choices we had were really good ones. From the information we have, the other one with them has been in the group for about as long as the twins, just a little less. Our best bet would have been the woman or her partner, who have been there longer than the albino."

"What do you propose we do now?" Ludwig asked and Arthur just sighed once again before looking up, straightening himself out. He was the leader of this little group, he had to make sure he looked proud, even when he wasn't. Francis was slouched next to him on the couch with Antonio standing beside him. Antonio was fairly normal, one of the few out of the group that could easily go into any town and blend in. He had chocolate brown, mussed up hair and bright green eyes and he always seemed cheerful, like Feliciano. He had the best eyes of anyone in the room, which was why he was always on standby as their sniper on every mission they had him on. Standing on the other side of the room, glaring at everyone else, was Lovino, who had a very opposite personality to Antonio and Feliciano. He had dark brown hair as well, along with dark brown eyes, he was fairly small, but was very good with reconnaissance and, with Feliciano, very good with explosives and stealth missions, despite his loud voice.

Standing in front of Arthur was Ludwig, stoic and calm as ever. He had incredibly neat, slicked back blonde hair and bright blue eyes that never really seemed to betray any emotion. He was best in hand-to-hand combat, though that was usually never necessary, ergo why he was the only one not to go on the mission that had gone so wrong. He was very close friends with Feliciano, despite Lovino, his older brother, hating him, though Ludwig didn't even seem to mind the hatred.

"We wait for him to wake up," Arthur shrugged. "Considering he is one of the twins, he will find a way out of that room, so we need to stay on guard."

"Do we know anything else about him?" Antonio asked.

"He's…the louder one," Arthur sighed. "Our little spy apparently can't give us names, so we will have to find that out on our own, but he did give us some information. The twins have been with the king far longer than any of the other members on that team. They are good at any skill that they attempt, they were, in essence, made to be killers."

"So that means just sitting down and talking will be out of the question?" Francis chuckled slightly.

"Do not make light of this situation," Arthur snapped. "With him even sleeping here, all of our lives could be at risk."

"Then why keep the fucker alive?" Lovino snapped.

"Our goal is not to kill all of them," Arthur massaged the bridge of his nose. "Our goal is to try to break some of the allegiance to the king. I would have preferred we started smaller with someone else, even the other one would have been better, but we will have to work with what we have. Even if we do kill him, imagine the repercussions that would ensue. We would not survive another day, considering how much the king seems to rely on him."

"It should only take a few days for them to find him and us," Ludwig said. "We will need to be careful."

"Yes, I can't imagine this will be an extremely easy task," Arthur said. "But we will do what we can."

Everyone in the room froze at the sound of Feliciano's high-pitched scream and Arthur flinched.

"Feli!" Antonio was the first to move, quickly followed by the rest of the group, all of them equally concerned for the fate of their friend. If the twin was awake, that could only mean bad things from here on out. Arthur forced his way to the front of the group, past Antonio and Lovino, and stopped right where he was.

Just as he expected, the man was awake and he kept his steely gaze on all of them, changing between them until his eyes rested on Arthur. He could apparently tell that he was the leader of the group, either by his demeanor or the fact that he was in the front. He kept a knife placed firmly to Feliciano's throat. It was an old knife, only made of metal, and so it rested against the skin, just a tiny bit of force away from breaking the skin and causing damage. It looked like Feliciano had only just been using it for cooking. Feliciano looked about ready to cry, never one for stressful situations.

"Where am I?" The twin's voice came out evenly and Arthur took a deep breath before calmly taking a small step forward. The man flinched slightly, moving the knife just barely, but enough to put everyone on edge. Even Lovino was staying quiet in this situation, evidently afraid of what might happen to his little brother. "Answer the question."

"You are in our hideout, we cannot tell you where we are," Arthur said carefully.

"Who are you?" the man asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"I guess you can consider us revolutionaries," Arthur said. The man immediately tensed even more and Arthur inwardly groaned. That was perhaps not the best course of action he could have taken.

"What's stopping me from killing him, then?" the man asked and Feliciano let a few tears fall. The man was obviously dangerous, exceptionally more so than when Arthur had seen him asleep. He had looked almost innocent then, but now he was obviously a killer and nothing else. Hardly even a man.

"I need you to calm down," Arthur said, moving forward with his arms out, showing that he truly had no weapon on him. He did know, however, that Ludwig and Lovino had weapons on them and they were most likely ready to shoot at any time they wanted to.

"All of you have gone against the king," the man said, glancing at all of them carefully once again. Once he found his information satisfactory, he looked back to Arthur. "I should kill all of you right now."

"You do not have any weapons on you," Arthur said carefully. "I will need you to think through your actions carefully. We do not want to harm you."

"That just means you are weak," the man stated. "And I can find and make weapons easily. You're going to have to prove to me that you are useful before I kill you all where you stand."

Arthur nodded carefully, a subtle signal that he hoped the man couldn't understand and a quiet shot rang out, from Lovino's direction, in the small room. The assassin moved expertly out of the way, releasing Feliciano in his movements. Feliciano immediately scrambled over to the other side of the room. The only problem now would be that the man would be more than ready to fight now.

"Ludwig," Arthur said and Ludwig immediately moved in. The man was already in position to counterattack him, but it seemed that Ludwig was more experienced than the assassin, at least in this kind of combat. It was true that this one favored guns, so that was to their advantage. However, the man surprised everyone in the room when he swing a punch at Ludwig and missed, but a red blade appeared out of his arm, tearing through the fabric of his sleeve.

Ludwig immediately wheeled back to avoid being cut as Arthur attempted to understand.

"Prosthetics…" Arthur muttered and immediately turned to Francis, who nodded and pulled out his tiny, portable computer. Arthur turned back, ready to defend Francis as he worked and bit his lip when he saw the man kick and another blade showed itself. Luckily, it seemed Ludwig was holding off the man, at least for the time being, as the man was still slightly sluggish and drowsy from the drugs Feliciano had forced him to inhale just a few hours ago. For now, they seemed to be fine. "Ready whenever you are, Francis."

"Give me a moment," Francis hissed at him and the man turned his attention to them for a fraction of a second, apparently realizing that they were, at least, up to something. "I just need to find the correct frequency…."

"Just take your sweet time," Arthur grumbled and he saw the man starting to work the fight so that he could move, at least slightly, in their direction.

Thankfully, it seemed Francis had found the correct frequency because the man froze for half a second and Ludwig stalled, surprised, before the man fell, unable to move either his legs or arms.

"What the hell just happened?" Lovino snapped as the man appeared to go into a small panic, his breathing becoming uneven as he desperately tried to think of some way to get himself out of this, his eyes still keeping a steely blue gaze.

"Prosthetics," Arthur sighed heavily. It had only been a minor bet after seeing both an arm and a leg being able to wield a sword out of them that he had prosthetics and an even bigger bet that all of his limbs were prosthetics. Even if they weren't all fake, he would still be handicapped without one arm and one leg. "Francis was able to find their frequency and disable them from moving. I suggest still not getting close to him." Judging by the look on his face, the man was in some kind of panic, they still had to be careful. Arthur carefully knelt down fairly close to the man with a small sigh. The man looked about ready to kill him and Arthur was sure, if he could move, he would. "Now, I'm going to need you to remain calm. We aren't going to hurt you."

"You just better hope I can't hurt you," the man growled.

* * *

"I see," king Ivan muttered as Matthew knelt before him in place of Alfred. He had told him all of the details of the mission, leaving nothing out, even if it seemed unimportant. He never did this, he had no idea what Alfred normally did. It was rather nerve wracking to be in front of the king, alone, but he also felt a little proud to be the only one in front of the noble man. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Matthew confirmed, keeping a firm gaze on the ground. It hurt, having to retell the loss of his brother. He didn't know what to do with himself, really. What was there to do? He couldn't exactly go looking for him, there were no clues.

"Then we will keep an eye out for him when you go on missions," Ivan said clearly. "Do not go searching him out or seeking fights with anyone if you expect he is with them. We will need to be calm about this."

"Of course," Matthew said, unmoving from his spot because the king hadn't told him to move yet.

"Matthew," the king sighed and Matthew froze, his thoughts stopping all movement. "Stand."

Matthew shakily obeyed, slowly standing up. From what he knew from Alfred, this was not a normal occurrence. He stood and ensured that he didn't look into the king's eyes, though he was startled when he saw that Ivan was standing and…and walking towards him. And before Matthew could even think to react, Ivan had wrapped his arms around him. Matthew had been nowhere close to tears before, but that simple movement had hot tears pricking at his eyes. He didn't dare move, not unless the king told him that he could.

"I am sorry," the king said simply and Matthew understood. He was hurting from the loss as well. Matthew hadn't expected that, the king was a strong man and nothing could hurt his morale. He must have cared quite a lot for Matthew and Alfred, despite not needing to. "We will find him, I am sure. Alive."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Matthew muttered, his voice refusing to go above a whisper in this situation.

"You may return to your home," the king said as he stepped back to allow Matthew to move. Matthew gave Ivan a small bow of his head before he turned and left the room and then the building. The city around him seemed to move in a blur as he walked through it. He hardly registered anything. He didn't even register when he had made it back into his home until he blinked and saw the familiar hallway that held the rooms of his teammates.

"Birdie?" Gilbert said tentatively, calmly walking out of his room. "I heard from Kiku." He sighed heavily, obviously unsure of what to do or how to act. He wasn't very good at this kind of thing and it normally didn't happen. They were trained assassins, they weren't supposed to have feelings. But this was Matthew's brother. And even the king…

Matthew's feet moved without his consent and he was quickly in front of Gilbert, his arms trapping the man close to him as Matthew buried his face in his chest. And he let the tears pass. For once in years, he cried. He just wished Alfred was there to comfort him, too.

* * *

**Lots happened in this chapter. I'm not sure how long each chapter is going to be, but I know they're going to be longer than my usual; 2000 words. This one happened to be really long because I wanted to squeeze a lot in here. I really enjoyed this chapter, you have no idea. This fic is stretching me a lot with my skillz because action scenes as well as the way that I have all of the characters. Like Alfred and Matthew, I'm trying really hard with both of them because I'm just so in love with their characters and all of that! Also, for those of you that may or may not be scared of Ivan being the "bad guy" in this fic, he is not…quite. It's hard to explain, but you will see as the story unfolds. I love all of the characters in this fic and their backstories, so be just as excited for I am for it to really get rolling!**

**Also, this chapter was finished, like, last week, but I wanted to get another chapter done before I posted it and, since I had today off, I thought I would have plenty of time to write. As it turns out...I like to make bad decisions, so instead I watched hours worth of Markiplier on YouTube, and I'm really far behind, even on the Valentine's Day FanFic I wanna post...Single tear...**

**Ages; Antonio is 24, Feliciano is 20, Lovino is 22, and Ludwig is 19.**

**And please review! It keeps me fired up!**


	4. Bring Me To Life

Chapter 4. Bring Me To Life.

Alfred was nearly in a blind panic, but he was smarter than just allowing his enemies to see his weakness like that. He was still on the floor, unable to move anything but his head. He ensured that his breathing came out evenly as he desperately tried to find some way out of this mess. He hadn't expected them to have someone that could actually disable his prosthetics. He would have to take that into consideration when he returned to the king. Yes, he was going to return, it just seemed that this was going to be more difficult than he thought it would be. The person in charge was still trying to talk to him, even as the person Alfred attempted to hold captive was lead out by a few other people. He was alone in the room with the leader and the man that had disabled his arms and legs.

From what he could tell just by looking at the man in front of him, he could tell instantly that he was a foreigner, not originally from this country. He had a small accent to prove it, but other than that, he seemed accustomed to the way people normally lived in this country, meaning that he had been there for quite a lot of his life, if not all of it. The other man was from Kormall, their country, and seemed too well groomed to be anything other than a nobleman. At least, he used to be a nobleman, if he was in the revolutionary army.

Alfred knew he was going to have to play this smart, especially since they seemed to have full control over his limbs. Yet, even when he couldn't move or when he was asleep, they didn't try to kill him. Which mean they had entirely different aims than Alfred did. He could use that against them. If he was lucky, he could just kill all of them as he got away.

"We will not harm you, lad," the leader sighed heavily, kneeling down about a foot away from Alfred. He was a little scared of what Alfred could accomplish even without his arms, which made Alfred slightly proud. The problem was, he really could do nothing. That was one downside to his prosthetics, they were mechanic and that meant that they could, apparently, be disabled fairly easily. He just hadn't come into contact with anyone before that could do it. "We just need you to cooperate with us."

"It's not exactly like he has much of a choice," the man with the small computer chuckled slightly and Alfred set his glare on him. He fought back a smirk when he found that the man shuddered at the eye contact.

"If you won't comply, then I'm afraid we will have to use force," the leader sighed, standing up and looking at the screen, most likely to see the radius of capability that thing had. "We will allow you to move, but only as we see fit. Francis, if he moves suddenly, you disable him. If he leaves your line of sight, do not wait and disable him."

"Of course," Francis nodded with a smirk and Alfred immediately felt the control of his limbs return to him. It took a second for all of the functions to return to him and he was quickly sitting upright. He supposed getting to his feet too fast would result in him falling again. He would have to be smart. Find a way out of this with patience. He could find out weaknesses as well so that, once he did get away and even if he didn't kill all of them, his team would have a higher chance of taking them out. He would find a weakness, a way out, soon enough.

"Now, you're name," the leader relaxed slightly upon realizing that Alfred was cooperating with him, at least for the time being. Alfred could only guess what the man had up his sleeve and he just had to hope that Alfred had something better.

"Alfred," he said easily as he stood up all the way, ensuring he was slow enough so that Francis wouldn't do anything and also fast enough so that he wouldn't seem very weak.

"Arthur Kirkland," the leader stated. Odd that he felt a need to make sure his last name was known…Alfred would have to tuck that information away for the time being. "You already know that idiot's name." He pointed to the man behind him.

"You are too kind," Francis chuckled, keeping a secure grip on the little computer in his hands. Alfred would have to find some way to gauge how fast his reflexes worked in ways other than losing the function of his limbs. He would have to get a handle on the personalities of those around him first in order to be able to use them and find out all of their weaknesses. If he was lucky, he could even get one of them to test Francis' reaction time so Alfred could see how long of a chance he could have to run. Then he'd just have to find out the radius that his little device had and get away successfully.

"Alright, then, Alfred," Arthur nodded to him, obviously keeping enough distance between them in order to ensure he would at least have time to fight back, should Alfred attack him. He was smart, but Alfred had to wonder how smart. He seemed to be coming up with all of this on the fly, which meant that either he had no plan or the plan he had originally had gone out the window.

"What do you want with me?" Alfred interrupted him bluntly and Arthur blinked in surprise before relaxing slightly after Alfred's sudden outburst. "Why did you kidnap me, of all of the people you could have kidnapped?"

"To be honest, we have followed your group for some time," Arthur sighed heavily, choosing to lean against a counter for the time being and get comfortable. He crossed his arms over his chest, but Alfred noticed that he put a lot of care into making sure he looked extremely presentable, from the clothes down to his mannerisms and the way he talked. It was almost like he was scared of being looked down on. "I noticed that there was the same group of people doing the same kinds of dirty jobs for the king; assassinations and the like. I got curious and, even before I founded this group, I knew a little about you. The revolutionary army agrees with me when it comes to the understanding that, if we want to accomplish anything, we would most likely have to find a way to deal with a group of assassins such as yourselves."

"What do you know about us?" Alfred asked. How had he allowed something like that to slip past his guard? Sure, he had dealt with other assassins before, none of them were trained for as long as he and Matthew were, Kiku was the only one that was near the same level as them. "And how did you find out this much about us?"

"I'm not going to reveal how I know," Arthur smirked. "I may get the chance to do it again, after all. We don't know any of your names or much about any of you in general. We know how many members there are, their specialties, and some of their personality. If I'm going to be honest, we would have preferred someone else, at least at the start of this mission. Our goal is not to kill any of you. Our goal is to…change your minds, I suppose."

Change their minds? About the king? Alfred took a moment to process the information and it seemed that Francis was uneasy about the quiet, resting his hand over what Alfred supposed was the trigger to stop him from moving. A part of his mind was almost…infuriated. With just the thought of someone attempting to make him dislike the king. The very thought was traitorous, dumbfounding.

"You won't," Alfred said clearly and Francis seemed to jump. He wasn't used to high stress situations. It seemed like not a lot of people here were used to high stress situations. Even when Alfred had that one man with a knife to his throat, everyone seemed to be terrified. Alfred was used to everyone he knew keeping their emotions locked down, unavailable for anyone to see. And now he could clearly tell the emotions of everyone around him. It was a very odd change of pace. "I'm always going to be loyal to the king."

"I know," Arthur sighed. "We will just have to see how this goes, now won't we?"

* * *

Matthew sighed heavily, leaning against the wall. It was a simple chaos around him, a riot started by who-knew-what, and he was sent to quell it. This was his first mission in charge. He was told to bring only one person with him, it was a small riot that could be ended by killing just two people. He decided to bring Gilbert with him, since he was almost afraid to separate from him. If all went well, he could at least bring good news to Ivan. He deserved that much. Gilbert was just a few buildings away, Matthew had to remind himself. He was right there, they would find each other at the end of this mission, and everything would be alright.

Matthew fired the first shot to signal to Gilbert that he was ready. They never needed any kind of communication devices in this group. Well, they did at first, but they grew to understand each other well after being around each other and fighting together after so many years. They didn't need to communicate with words, following the plan and communicating with actions was much easier for all of them.

The first man fell, he seemed like the most influential, with a microphone and a picket sign in his hand. When he fell, the riot got worse and Matthew made sure he shifted into the darkness. Gilbert's turn. Matthew had to move. No two bullets could come from the same place, they had to think that this was an act of the king, he would probably use more than just two people to quell a riot, that was what they had to lead people to believe.

Gilbert's shot rang out just as Matthew was halfway to his new spot. Matthew glanced over and saw another person that seemed like an influential figure fall. A few people cried over his body and a few others seemed to lose their momentum, a little frightened by the shots. Once Matthew was in his new place, he wasted no time in firing his next shot and a lot more people slowed down, looking around for the sources of these shots. There were no soldiers in the area, at least not now. This would stall enough time to get the soldiers here and they would have a nice, easy job cleaning up once everyone was calmed down. Albeit calmed down by fear, but they were still calmed.

Gilbert fired the last shot it seemed they needed and Matthew could already hear the soldiers so he left, winding through the buildings until he made it a fair distance away, in front of a dank, rundown shop where he would wait for Gilbert. He would up waiting about two seconds.

"You good?" Matthew asked casually. They had to seem like regular people on the street. To all of the passersby that weren't a part of the small riot, they were far from assassins.

"I'm fine, Birdie, don't worry about me," Gilbert smirked, mussing his hair and Matthew scowled slightly, but he smiled on the inside. Gilbert was fine. Everything was fine. Matthew hugged him tightly for a few seconds before he separated and started walking with purpose to where their shuttle would greet them in about half an hour. This was finished a lot sooner than they had expected it would. "Didn't expect it to only take four, that was way too easy."

"Part of the reason has to be that those revolutionaries weren't involved," Matthew mused, looking up at the gray sky. It had always been such a dank color, ever since he could remember, but for some reason, in some of the books he had read, it was described as a light blue color. He had to wonder why. "There was more intelligence behind the last riot, when they were involved, and they were nowhere near this one. It just happened because people were idiots."

"Gotta give those revolutionaries credit," Gilbert shrugged. "It was kinda smart, what they did."

"What they did was go against the king," Matthew muttered. "That's something I'll never forgive. Then there is the other matter altogether that they took my brother form me. If I find a single one of them, I won't even hesitate."

"Glad to know you've got priorities straight," Gilbert chuckled, running his hand casually against the nearest building. "Gotta say, I haven't been on many missions lately, this was kinda nice. Your brother does seem to hate me." Matthew smiled slightly when he noticed Gilbert talked about Alfred in the present tense, obviously for Matthew's sake. "At least with you around, I get to actually _do_ something."

"Whenever we do have to work, though, that means something has gone wrong," Matthew sighed and stopped just a few feet from where the shuttle would come. It was a wide street with many cars driving along it at impossible speeds to control. Matthew knew that the cars drove themselves, much like the shuttles, it was still rather odd, though, how fast they could go and still be under control, no matter the weather. "I just wish for once that everything would be calm. Maybe that would lighten the load on the king."

"Nothing's ever going to be calm," Gilbert said. "No matter how happy one group is with how things are working out, one group's not gonna be happy. There's always gonna be problems, no matter how many people you kill."

Matthew decided to change the subject. He didn't like the way Gilbert's voice sounded when it was so serious. "I'm thinking about asking Kiku to help me with dinner tonight, try something new. It might be a good way to perk up everyone else." The other three on the team were also taking Alfred's loss rather hard, though they did a good job of not really showing it. Kiku had become even more introverted than usual, only coming out of his room when necessary to eat or gain information on a mission. He never talked, either. Elizabeta and Roderich seemed to only talk to each other in hushed tones, though they did talk to Matthew, only with sad eyes.

"Awesome," Gilbert stretched, leaning heavily against a wall across from Matthew. "You're regular food's awesome, Birdie, don't get me wrong, but some new food is always fun. Puts a little spice into life."

"I'm sure," Matthew laughed slightly. "As soon as I'm done reporting to king Ivan, I'll ask Kiku to help me get to work on it. I am pretty hungry."

"You know what else you could do to fill yourself up?" Gilbert grew a wicked smirk.

"Gil, don't even start," Matthew rolled his eyes, but a small smile did play on his lips. He let out a small, inaudible sigh. He wasn't supposed to show weakness outside of their home. He was assassin, he wasn't supposed to let things like this get to him. But just seeing Gilbert, hands splayed behind his head and leaning like he was, against the wall…The smile came back.

"There's that smile I've been looking for!" Gilbert said cheerfully, walking towards him casually. "You know, we are supposed to be blending in here, so try not to act so stiff around everyone. It's okay to look human, you know."

"I know," Matthew said, looking up the short distance of the difference of height between the two of them. "But you shouldn't be acting so nonchalant, either."

"Looks like we've got a problem," Gilbert hummed, leaning just a little closer and Matthew scoffed, shaking his head and looking away stubbornly. "I think the way I carry myself is perfectly awesome!"

"And perfectly obnoxious," Matthew smirked as Gilbert balked, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "You already stand out with your hair and eyes, but you also have to be loud, boisterous, cocky, annoying, patroniz-" Matthew was cut off suddenly by a pair of lips and he backed up just slightly into the nearest wall. Matthew gladly kissed him back, thankful for more of a distraction. This was what made Gilbert awesome; he knew what to do to at least help Matthew forget. They separated after what felt like not enough time and Matthew huffed. "And a jackass."

Gilbert simply laughed.

* * *

**Cuties. PruCan is still my OTP, though it is not the main pairing in this fic. It's just the only one in the spotlight for now because Valentine's Day. USUK will happen, they just have to warm up to each other enough to stand each other's presence. Currently, Alfred hates Arthur for no other reason than Arthur going against Ivan, but hopefully things will start warming up soon! And I have dropped some subtle backstory hints here and there, but you'll probably get a backstory for everyone in here. If not, I'll just make some for y'all so you can at least see some of what made these characters who they are.**

**Anywho, please review! It's great and I'll love you forever!**


	5. Shots

Chapter 5. Shots.

One night. One very uneasy night, but a night nonetheless. They had managed. Francis had taught Arthur how to work his stupid computer contraption while he slept just in case Alfred did something in the middle of the night everyone would regret. But Alfred didn't move from the room they kept him in. In fact, he slept, fairly deeply, as if thinking that those around him were no threat to him. Everyone else, on the other hand, barely got sleep. Lovino was about ready to attack the man for what he had tried to do to his brother, but Ludwig was keeping him at bay, thankfully allowing Lovino to get all of his anger out on him.

Arthur decided to leave Feliciano, Lovino, and Ludwig at their hideout and take Francis and Antonio with him to bring Alfred into the town they lived in. There was hardly any space between towns at this rate, it was a wonder that people could tell them apart, they all looked the same. Every building, aside from height, as identical. Arthur was even sure that the insides were all equally dull as well. Luckily, this worked to their advantage, making it near impossible for Alfred to be able to discover where their location was.

He was proven right when Alfred walked out of their building and into the street and looked around subtly, making no note on his face or otherwise that he knew where he was. Arthur came to notice, at least in the short time that he had seen Alfred and the way he talked and carried himself, that he made incredibly small indications of his emotions. His normally cool façade was just that; a façade. Arthur could tell by the small twitches that it actually took a lot of effort for him to remain that way, but Alfred had also grown used to that.

They walked carefully, Francis behind Alfred and always keeping an eye on him, Arthur beside the man, and Antonio leading in the front. There was no destination in mind, just exploring the town. It was full of revolutionaries, though, to the soldiers that sometimes visited, they were completely loyal to the king, naturally. It was among the more lively of towns Arthur had been to in this country and he had grown rather fond of it and the inhabitants. Alfred, however, appeared to be on edge, even more so than the previous night, and confused, more than anything.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked after a short while. Francis seemed to jump, apparently very engrossed in his job of pressing a button and Arthur sighed, thinking for a moment on the proper words to say in this situation.

"Sightseeing," Arthur shrugged as Antonio seemed to get distracted by a few women in the market that had just started. It was a long string of stalls that spread down an incredibly tiny street meant only for walking. There were very few roads meant for cars, none of them near a town as small and far from the capital as this one. The markets didn't happen often, as it usually took quite some time to make the wares that they offered. Arthur always enjoyed seeing if he could find anything that he would like, perhaps Alfred could find something that he'd like. That would be the day. "You can feel free to enjoy yourself, if you can."

Alfred's glare hardened slightly and Arthur smirked, realizing he had gotten under the man's skin just enough to be irritable. He couldn't allow the man to hate him, but just a little bickering would be fine. Francis and him were somehow friends after all these years, anyway.

"Doesn't seem very legal," Alfred noted as Arthur chose to leave Antonio behind while he attempted to flirt, though it was obvious he wasn't completely interested in any of the women around him. They passed by a few stands, some of them with simple crafts and others with…more creative wares. Alfred's interest seemed to linger on the stalls with weapons, whether that be because he wanted one or because it was, in all actuality, illegal, Arthur couldn't tell.

"You can feel free to tell a soldier, should you see one," Arthur hummed, passing by a woman that he knew fairly well that sold very good herbs that she collected from the small forest that seemed to act as a barrier with the neighboring country of Eltrack, the smallest country they had a border with. It was the only forest Arthur had ever seen, and completely off limits. He always wondered how a little, old woman managed to sneak so many trips into it, but she never revealed anything to him. He would stop by at her stall after a while, he had to keep track of Alfred as best as he could.

Luckily, the man understood very clearly what it meant if he acted too out of control, taking his movements slowly. But that just made Arthur more on edge. Alfred would definitely be planning and thinking of a way out of this situation. He would have to keep a very sharp eye on every one of his movements and anywhere he looked. Currently, he was taking particular interest in a gun at a stall, though he didn't stop walking to talk to the vendor. Arthur had no doubt that the boy had memorized what it looked like.

"I'm afraid I have found something to spark my interest," Francis sighed, carefully handing the little computer to Arthur, who glared at him. It wasn't part of the plan to separate. But Francis just shrugged with a sly grin as he slunk off into the small crowd around some kind of jewelry stand. Arthur knew it was a terrible idea to keep around a nobleman who couldn't resist anything that sparkled. "You know what to do!"

"Prat," Arthur muttered under his breath, but kept at least the corner of his eye on Alfred as he stopped walking. Alfred stopped accordingly. It was fine when the boy was assessing Francis, the man could be incredibly unpredictable and random, but Arthur was a trifle more boring, which put him in a bad spot. If Alfred were to guess any of his movements, he could probably get away. Arthur simply sighed heavily and continued walking, keeping the device secure in his hand furthest away from Alfred, who matched his pace once again. It really wasn't a good idea for them to be alone, but Arthur was left with no other option.

"A lot of people seem to know you," Alfred noticed as another group of vendors attempted a conversation, but Arthur simply waved at them and continued on his way. "Weird for a revolutionary."

"Yes, well, our group is a bit less undercover than yours," Arthur said. "We don't hide in the shadows our whole lives. We just make sure that the shadows around us block out the king and anyone connected to him."

"Why act now?" Alfred asked. Finally, they had passed all of the vendors and made it to the incredibly tiny square, maybe about 50 square feet. Many people bustled around it. Today was a relaxing day, one where not many people had to work, and so everyone was perfectly fine being social. Buildings closely surrounded the square, all of them the same, blank gray.

"A few factors," Arthur said. "One being that it took some time to build up the team you see now. Another being it took even longer to even discover small bits of information about your group."

"We'll have to be more careful," Alfred noted as Arthur stopped walking to lean against a cool wall. He looked up at the ever-gray sky and sighed. A part of him wondered if it was anything like this on the other side of that ocean he had heard so much about. "You shouldn't know anything about us at all."

"No matter how careful you are, someone always seems to be more careful than you," Arthur sighed. It was something he had noticed, generally, and an old saying his mentor from a while back had taught him. She was always so careful, yet her little saying was true all the way to the end.

And then the crowd stopped. Arthur hadn't heard it at first, but Alfred sure as hell did. After the crowd all stopped moving at once and Alfred was on high alert, that was when he truly heard it. A gunshot. Followed by screams.

"Shit," Arthur muttered, pulling out the small handgun he had stored in his pants just in case. He had guessed he would have had to use it on Alfred. He guessed he still might. Antonio and Francis were too far into the market to either hear anything or make it to them. Arthur would have to be extremely careful.

Before he could even make a move, there was another gunshot and a woman fell just a few feet in front of him and he got a glimpse at the man doing the firing. He inwardly groaned. It was a group of extremists, nothing dangerous or terrifying. The only problem would be that Arthur had no idea how many there were going to be. They always stood out with a bright red bandana over their heads or on their arms, and they always attacked in massive groups. They would kill mass amounts of people to attract attention that only came in the form of being arrested and killed. They had the same ideals as Arthur, the only problem was their methods of going about it. They also probably knew about the inhabitants of this town as well.

"Behind you," Alfred said and Arthur jumped when he felt the man's cold hands over his. Arthur reacted easily as Alfred didn't attempt to wrestle the gun from his hands, but rather pointed it behind Arthur and pulled the trigger for him. An extremist landed on the ground, his blood pooling on to the ground. Arthur was so in shock that, this time, he allowed Alfred to pull the gun from him. Arthur braced for a fight, but relaxed when he saw Alfred simply aim at another extremist through the crowd, hit him expertly in the head, and then toss the gun back to Arthur, who caught it dumbly.

He saw Alfred pick up the pistol from the corpse and glanced over at the body that Alfred had killed first. Arthur chuckled slightly when he realized that the gun in Alfred's hand was a slightly more advanced version than the one in the corpse's. He was picky, Arthur was going to give him that. He carefully watched where Alfred went, which happened to be the top of the shortest building in the square. He fired another shot, just thirty seconds after his last one, and another man fell.

Arthur sighed. He would have to be trustworthy here. He knew the radius that the device was capable of with shutting off his prosthetics, which was actually a fair distance, so he would just have to keep checking up on the man above him. Arthur carefully aimed at his next target, but sighed when Alfred managed to shoot him in the head first. He collapsed just as he was about to stab a woman in the back with a knife. Luckily, the pedestrians around them were smart enough to start running away and no one was stupid enough to come to the square, but there were still mass crowds stuck in the small alleyways. Arthur aimed at another radical, but that man fell with a shot to the chest, courtesy of Alfred.

Arthur glanced up at the man, who smirked slightly. Cheeky bastard.

Arthur aimed at the next one quickly and fired a shot, but a different bullet hit the man first, causing Arthur's bullet to hit a wall instead. The radicals were a small group now, meaning that either some of them were smart and left, or some were simply swept up in the crowd and were easily dealt with. Radicals were all but useless on their own.

"Not the riot you all seemed to plan, it seems," Arthur muttered at the five left in the square and attempted to fire, yet again, but Alfred had managed to make a shot that wound up hitting two in the head at once, both of them falling. The three radicals left decided to have two aim at Alfred and the last one keep Arthur busy. Arthur sighed and shot one of the people looking for Alfred and dodged the bullet that would have missed anyway, seeing as Alfred shot the man looking at Arthur. And then Arthur allowed Alfred to get the last kill before the assassin dropped back onto the ground.

Arthur looked at the man carefully, who obviously glanced to the pocket where the small computer was. Arthur didn't even know how fast his reflexes would be. Should Alfred try to run, Arthur had no idea if he would be fast enough to stop the man, but it didn't seem like that would be much of a problem in the first place.

"Now, what the hell made you think to do that?" Arthur asked suspiciously just as Antonio and Francis finally made it through the crowd. Alfred dropped the gun, ensuring that both of his hands could be seen by the other two.

"I do know how to do something without orders," Alfred said simply. "They were attempting to cause disorder and they were killing innocent people and would have killed more if I didn't help. What point would there be in not trying to stop them? This saves the king from being forced to worry about something so trivial, anyway."

Alfred was just full of surprises, wasn't he? Arthur let out a small sigh before stowing his gun and tossing the computer to Francis, who caught it with just a little bit of concern for dropping it. But what if Alfred knew that the town was full of revolutionaries? Would he have thought the same thing?

"Don't ditch me again, understood?" Arthur looked at them coldly and they nodded a little sadly. People were already peeking into the square to see if it was safe, some of them offering to help with the bodies and try to remove them, not like there was much room for them to go anywhere in the first place.

* * *

Matthew sighed heavily as he leaned back in one of the chairs in the kitchen. Gilbert sat beside him, surprisingly keeping the quiet atmosphere around them preserved. He could tell when Matthew just didn't want to talk, which was nice. He was rather introverted and sometimes it was nice to just stay in quiet. It was times like this when he missed Alfred, who could never sense the mood in a room before he ruined it.

Then Matthew heard the sound of the door opening all the way at the front of the little building, and he perked up slightly, looking at the door of the kitchen and just waiting for it to open. There would be news. Good or bad didn't matter as long as there was news. No news, in this case, was the worst news that could happen to him. Gilbert patted his back and Matthew didn't even so much as twitch.

Finally, the door to the kitchen slid open, fixed from Alfred's previous mishap, and Elizabeta and Roderich walked in. But they didn't look happy. Matthew sighed sadly.

"Anything?" Matthew asked as the two slumped on the other side of the table, though Roderich did ensure that his back was straight, as usual.

"I don't think we'll be able to find anything," Roderich sighed.

"You guys don't have to look, I get it," Matthew muttered.

"Oh, come on," Elizabeta said, a small tinge of happiness to her voice. "If it was going to be easy to find him, Alfred would have already gotten away and come right back here. At least this means we've got a good opponent, one we're definitely going to win again, alright, Mattie? And you can bet I'm going to keep looking for him. Even the king has soldiers going out to search for him whenever he can. It's not going to be easy, but we'll find him, I promise."

"Thanks," Matthew smiled sadly. "Al can be an idiot, but you're right about him. I know that, if he even is awake right now, he's working overtime to try to find some way out of this mess. We just have to be patient and look harder."

"There's a good leader," Gilbert chimed proudly and Matthew laughed slightly, looking over at him.

"Well, we don't have any mission for now, it's calm for the moment," Matthew said. "I'd say we should all rest up while we have the time."

"I definitely agree," Gilbert said. "A nap would be fucking awesome!"

"You better nap this time," Elizabeta huffed. "I heard you last time you were 'taking a nap' in your room."

"What the fuck do you think you heard?" Gilbert scoffed.

"I'm right next door to you," Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I know how well your relationship with Matthew is going?"

"I'm going to get some sleep," Matthew stood up, attempting desperately to ignore the furious red that appeared on his face. Elizabeta giggled and Roderich half-heartedly scolded her for her conduct while Gilbert tried to come up with some kind of retort, but simply wound up laughing. Kiku still wasn't back from searching and Matthew just hoped that he would be alright. He hoped everyone would be alright. It would be great to see all of the chairs filled at the table again.

* * *

**Little bittersweet at the end, but I got a few jokes in there. And from Elizabeta, too! I'm proud. We also got to see that Alfred does have a sense of justice on his own, most likely instilled by the king, but he doesn't need instruction to act. He's doing his work while still being away and still finding a way out of this huge mess. And Arthur was surely surprised. I would be too if a trained killer used my gun to kill other people. But anyway, a few things happened here, hopefully a little more will happen next chapter. This is moving kind of slowly, but it's not like anything is really filler. I dunno, I guess I kinda like it. There will be more action later, I assure you. A lot of action.**

**Please review! It's awesome!**


	6. Novocaine

Chapter 6. Novocaine.

This town was…weird. It was nothing like Alfred was used to seeing. Normally, in a city or a town, everyone acted the same. They minded their own business, kept to their families if they had any, and they hardly socialized. It was all the normal gray that Alfred was used to seeing, that seemed to be the norm. Alfred had no idea where this town was, what it was called, or if it was even in the country, but it was much, much different than the norm.

Everyone here was happy and chatting with each other, being mutually beneficial to one another. It was…overwhelming. Concerning, almost, but not quite. Even after the incident with the radicals, it seemed like everyone was back to normal. After they worked together to get everything cleaned up. Now the square was back to its seemingly usual spark and crowd. Arthur made sure he was still as close as possible to Alfred at all times and now Francis and Antonio made sure he was in their sights at all times. From what he could guess was that Antonio was their sniper, which meant that he could at least see very well from a distance. It was just odd how laid back and relaxed he always seemed to be. He even left Arthur so he could talk to girls he obviously wasn't even attracted to.

And then Francis. Everyone, really. They were all laid back. Sure, Alfred and his team were laid back, but only when they were alone. Only when they were safe from prying eyes. Even Arthur would banter with Francis on occasion, slipping into a more relaxed roll than he should have, as the evident leader of the group. Alfred had yet to gauge the reflexes of either Francis or Arthur properly, as he had been distracted with the sudden interruption, engrossed in ensuring his job was complete, rather than focusing on Arthur. He knew that if he didn't silence something like that as soon as possible, the king would have to deal with it later and Alfred didn't want to trouble him. More than he most likely already was.

"You look rather like an assassin," Arthur commented, leaning on a wall beside him. Alfred was standing up straight, watching the people of the town walk around with money or goods of some kind. Alfred was slightly startled by such a comment, though he made no move to imply that he really was. "You're so stiff and your eyes are so cold, I suggest at least keeping your cover better. We are."

"Are you keeping your cover or are you being careless?" Alfred asked. "I find I can't quite tell."

Arthur stiffened slightly, though came with a quick comeback. "Careless is being caught by two people who I assume are far less able than someone who has been an assassin as long as you have."

"Was that careless?" Alfred asked simply. "Or a well thought out plan?"

"Yes, I'm sure that king of yours is quite able to come up with something as ingenious as this," Arthur said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

"I wouldn't doubt anything of the sort," Alfred said proudly and Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. Alfred could tell that he did have some reason that seemed perfectly valid to Arthur that explained his hatred for the king, though Alfred couldn't quite seem to discover it. The closest thing he had to a clue was when a small gust of wind moved his shirt just slightly and Alfred could see a small section of what appeared to be a large, ugly scar on his back.

"How long have you had prosthetics?" Arthur asked, changing the subject of the conversation.

"Why?" Alfred asked skeptically.

"I'm attempting a civilized conversation," Arthur shrugged.

"You are strange assassins," Alfred said. "I've had them since before I can remember."

"Do you know of the accident?" Arthur asked.

"Revolutionaries," Alfred said simply. "The king was kind enough to give a baby like me a second chance with new limbs." Alfred couldn't even remember how many different limbs he had to go through as he grew. And how many glasses to fix his eyesight, much like his brother.

"How do you know a story like that is true?" Arthur asked.

"Why would anything the king says be a lie?" Alfred asked him innocently.

"You're a very interesting person, Alfred," Arthur sighed and Alfred watched carefully as a ball bounced and skidded through the crowd until he stopped it with his own foot before it hit his shin. No one in the crowd seemed to mind, not even Francis or Antonio, who seemed to be perfectly happy, chatting up random girls that passed them by.

"I don't understand," Alfred muttered as he picked up the ball. It was made out of rubber, he hadn't really seen anything like it. "You are quite interesting as well. What person sells this as their wares?"

"That's not something someone's selling," Arthur chuckled slightly and Alfred saw a small group of children pushing through the crowd, looking around until they locked onto the ball in Alfred's hand. He still didn't quite understand what was going on.

"Um…Mister?" one of the children looked up at him, obviously trembling. He was terrified, though less so than the rest of his friends. Did Alfred look that terrifying? Then again, Arthur did say that he looked like an assassin…Should he try smiling? That probably wasn't a good idea… "Could we have our ball back?"

"What are you doing with it?" Alfred asked, genuinely curious. Arthur wasn't about to give him any answers any time soon. As long as he was stuck in this town, he could figure out how it worked.

The child seemed to brighten considerably now that he had something to talk about. "I-It's a game we made up. There are two teams and the goal is to get the ball past the other teams into their goal! Without using our hands."

"That sounds kinda cool," Alfred said, a small smirk playing along his lips. He tossed the ball in his hands while Arthur watched him considerably. Alfred liked kids, he normally didn't see very many, but it was cool to see some of them being able to grow up normally now that the king had restored order to everything. Alfred tossed the ball at Arthur without warning. The man flinched instinctively to catch the rubber object, though judging by the look in his eyes, it took just a few seconds for him to fully react. There, now Alfred knew his reaction time. "Hey, Artie, wanna play with us?"

"Afraid not," Arthur sighed, tossing the ball back to Alfred, who caught it expertly with one hand. "I'm not very good with games, I would most likely slow you down."

"No way, sir, are you going to play with us?" the kid asked in wonder.

"I want him on my team!" one kid cheered happily and Alfred laughed slightly, following as the kids lead him through the crowd. He found that they had set up in an unoccupied alleyway. There were about five children in total, two of them had stayed back while three went to fetch the ball. There were weak lines drawn on the ground in chalk, which Alfred guessed were the lines for the goal. The other kids greedily rushed to their friends to tell them all about what happened. Alfred was more than aware of the fact that Arthur was right behind him, ready to press the damned button at any time.

Alfred smirked as he tossed the ball in the air before hitting it lightly with his elbow. He had already thrown it and weighed it in his hands so he knew exactly how much force to put onto it to get the desired effect. The ball was tossed into the air by his foot next, resulting in him hitting it a few times with his head, and then he turned to juggling it between his knees. He laughed without his own consent. It was actually kind of fun. By the time he let the ball drop to the ground, he noticed that all five kids were staring at him in awe. They all wanted him on their "team", as it were.

* * *

Arthur watched in interest from a fair distance as Alfred played with the kids. As expected, he was an expert, even at something that he had just discovered, though, surprisingly, he was holding himself back. Despite his obvious ability, he allowed the kids around him to actually be better than him most of the time. Naturally, there were times when he couldn't help showing off. The part that seemed the most surprising, however, was the fact that Alfred was…smiling. When he looked at the children and they looked at him, he was softer. It was interesting. He seemed to have a soft spot for them, for whatever reason. Arthur could only guess it had something to do with his own childhood.

"You seem a little too interested in him," Francis said beside him, smirking proudly.

"Go back to flirting with girls alongside Antonio," Arthur rolled his eyes. "I believe I can handle this on my own."

"I think I agree with you, he does seem rather attractive when he's happy like that," Francis mused. Arthur paused for a moment before he fully processed what Francis had said.

"That is not at all what I was thinking, you…twat," Arthur snapped at him, choosing to ignore the fact that his face was, in fact, heating up. He just had to hope that Alfred wasn't paying attention to them, though Arthur doubted he would think much of it. Francis usually just enjoyed to mess with Arthur, despite hardly anything he said making any sense.

"What country are you from that comes up with such odd phrases?" Francis chuckled.

"I thought he scared you," Arthur rolled his eyes, changing the subject that he knew Francis knew to avoid. He did know from watching Francis that, when he was in charge of ensuring Alfred didn't go anywhere, he was constantly on edge, well aware of the fact that Alfred was a well-trained assassin.

"He is less terrifying like this," Francis shrugged. "And it is no longer my fault if he runs away."

Arthur rolled his eyes once again. Francis was always one to give excuses to make up for his own mistakes. Arthur kept looking at Alfred and watching. He was extremely careful with the children, almost like he was afraid of hurting them. Afraid of being too violent, which Arthur could understand. He was trained to kill people and here he was, expected to be gentle with little kids.

"You do realize this won't last long," Francis sighed. "Not only Alfred himself, who is no doubt finding out every single weakness we have right now, but there is also those working with him. And the king himself is, no doubt, looking for him."

"Yes, but this is the only plan we have," Arthur sighed. He knew he couldn't say much of the plan with Alfred being so close to him, but it all hung on the fact that Alfred had to, at the very least, enjoy his time with them. The goal wasn't to kill him or just kidnap him for money or anything, it was to change his mind. Which was why it would have been preferable to have a different person under their care first. Arthur knew extremely well that Alfred was certainly going to leave. He just had to hope it wasn't too soon.

Alfred managed to kick the ball, hard enough for it to bounce off of the wall that signified one team's goal, but soft enough so that it wouldn't hurt anyone. He smiled triumphantly when the kids on his team said that they were winning in points. His eyes were a lot brighter now that he wasn't forcing himself to constantly look like a hardboiled assassin.

* * *

Alfred tapped his finger impatiently, though he hadn't noticed that he was doing it for quite some time. Sure, he didn't mind the conversation, but he knew what would be going on at the capital. It was nighttime and, no matter where he was, the time couldn't be too different from the time in the capital. There was a sort of ball that was to be held and it most certainly wouldn't be held off just because Alfred wouldn't be there. And he was sure that his team could handle something like that just fine…it just sucked that he couldn't be there for the king like he always was during events like that.

"Alfred, are you alright?" Feliciano asked him suddenly and Alfred blinked at him. After they had been in town for a few hours, they decided to return to their house and, though Alfred was still under constant watch, it was Francis that was watching him this time. Arthur was busy discussing something with Ludwig and Antonio at the moment, and it seemed like Lovino was completely unwilling to allow Alfred anywhere near his brother. Alfred couldn't help but laugh a little at that. He found out quickly that Feliciano was very fast to forgive and genuinely wanted to be Alfred's friend. No one else was that naïve in this group, not even Ludwig, the youngest. Alfred was willing to humor him, however. It was only Alfred, Feliciano, Lovino, and Francis in the room, Francis leaning against a far wall and Lovino sitting between Feliciano and Alfred on the couch, and it didn't seem like anyone else was about to talk to him.

"Just thinking about my team," Alfred said with a small shrug.

"Oh, yeah, you must miss them," Feliciano wondered out loud. "I don't know what I would do if someone took me from all of my friends…I am kinda sorry for what I did to you."

"Don't fucking apologize to him, idiot," Lovino spat at him. Alfred would have snorted if he wasn't around strangers. He was so cold on the surface, but Alfred could tell just by looking at the man that his eyes were soft when looking at his brother.

"I nearly slit your throat, I'd say we're even," Alfred said simply and Lovino glared harshly at him. Alfred matched it easily with a simple glance in his direction and he saw the man's resolve crumble just slightly. He still had some of the demeanor that Alfred had seen in soldiers, which he found interesting, but decided not to say anything about it.

Alfred spared a glance at Francis. He was relaxed whenever he wasn't afraid of Alfred running away being his fault, but when it was just him in charge of the machine that could turn off Alfred's prosthetics, he was jumpy as all hell. It was incredibly easy to test his reflexes, just by seeing how long it took him to jump every time Alfred moved his arm.

After a moment of silence, Lovino seemed to get fed up and let out a long sigh before turning to address him for the first time since Alfred had met him.

"What the fuck is so great about that fucking king, anyway?" Lovino asked and Alfred forced back any words he had for the man and the way he addressed the king. He had to be on his best behavior, which didn't involve choking Lovino until he took those words back…

"Besides the obvious?" Alfred asked rhetorically. He didn't need to go on and on about everything the king had done for the country that he had not only helped create, but also protected from the countries around it and everything he did for the people. No, he could cover that sometime later. He continued before Lovino could try to respond. "He is the kind of person willing to care for someone he has no need to. I've never seen a man with as much compassion as he does. And compared to the other leaders, which I have most certainly seen, he is more humble and willing to listen to the people. The king is one of the best men in our world."

"What bullshit is he feeding you?" Lovino snapped and he assumed his face was enough to give away any killing intent he had because it only took a second for his limbs to fall limp and his back fell uselessly back onto the couch. Alfred let out a deep sigh.

"Of course it takes a soldier that has never met him to say something like that," Alfred muttered under his breath.

"Hey, guys, I'd say we start on some different kind of subject," Feliciano suggested as Alfred felt his joints lock painfully as power was restored to his limbs. He didn't show any of the weakness of the pain as he sat back up, looking at Francis to assure him he wouldn't try anything.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I should just go ahead and return to the room you guys made for me," Alfred sighed, standing slowly and carefully.

"I was by no means a soldier by choice," Lovino said clearly, his voice laced with a hatred unlike anything he showed to his brother or even Ludwig. "Your king cares so much about his people? Why does he force them to get shot at?"

"At least I have something I'm willing to die for," Alfred said.

"Don't think for a second I don't," Lovino growled while Alfred stepped out of the room, Francis hot on his heels. Alfred didn't even need to know Lovino well at all to know that he was referring to Feliciano.

"Believe me, it's nowhere near the same thing," Alfred muttered under his breath.

* * *

"These things are so boring," Gilbert groaned under his breath.

"Oh, right, I forgot you've never attended one of these before," Matthew smiled slightly, not once removing his gaze from the subject of his mission. The most important subject of all of them. It was a ball, of sorts, meant to bring the heads of all four countries on the continent together for the sake of each other's' image. Nobility was crawling everywhere, some familiar and some new, but they were all just faces in the crowd to Matthew. His main focus was on Ivan, it never shifted. He had a gun at the ready, as did Gilbert, as they hid in a special compartment that Ivan had made just for occasions like this. Usually, Matthew was with Alfred.

They were above the massive floor of the ballroom with not much dancing happening. It wasn't dazzling, though some of the guests dressed in very vibrant colors. There was some music and a lot of food and a lot of standing around and talking. They had clear orders; Matthew and Gilbert were to not move and keep an eye on Ivan and anyone in direct contact with him to ensure his safety, Kiku was to stay at the entrance and make sure no one came in with anything that could be deemed dangerous, and Elizabeta and Roderich were hidden among the crowd as guests, to gauge if any guest at any point in time will prove as a danger. These events were always held in the capital of their country, Kormall, as an arrangement Ivan had made years ago with the other three countries; Merkatus, Prulamuck, and Eltrack. This enabled him to use their group of assassins as he pleased.

"Remind me who the big shots are gonna be," Gilbert sighed, shifting yet again in his position, still not taking his eyes off of Ivan, either.

"There are five that never separate," Matthew explained. "They're from Merkatus, it's a democratic republic, of sorts. Matthias, Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil. Only a few of them are very good at fighting and none of them bring weapons to these events. The one talking to him now, the blonde with long hair, is the king from Prulamuck, Feliks. He is never a danger, he is actually extremely shy and he nearly collapses after big events like this. The last one is the elected king from Eltrack, Yao, and his advisor, Im Yong Soo. Yao is normally not much of an issue, though his military is a problem in the forest lining the north and so Ivan is forced to be extremely diplomatic. His advisor, more like a servant, does not particularly like him, I can tell just by looking at them, which means he is fairly easy to manipulate. Ivan is currently working on slowly getting Im Yong Soo to work with us, as that will make dealing with Eltrack much easier."

"I bet you even have all of their heights and weights memorized," Gilbert smirked.

"We need to stay focused," Matthew smiled slightly. As a matter of fact, he did. He could honestly say the height and weight of anyone in the room just by looking at them, but that was a waste of time. Ivan's three most trusted soldiers, which he nearly always kept with him, Toris, Ravis, and Eduard, were also there, though in more obvious garb to ensure that the party was well contained.

"Whatever you say, sir," Gilbert laughed slightly.

Matthew shifted when he saw a servant come through the main doors, Kiku looking at him in slight intrigue, though he had no weapon on him, so he was no real risk. He ran straight to Ivan, who regarded him with surprise, interrupting his conversation with Yao. Matthew narrowed his eyes as he watched the exchange, Ivan's demeanor changing completely in the process. He became stiff and then ushered the servant away and they quickly scurried back from where they came. The party didn't even stop for a second.

Ivan hurriedly excused himself from the crowd of country leaders before rushing to the side of the ballroom that Matthew could easily access without being seen.

"I'll be back," Matthew said before quickly disappearing from Gilbert's side. There was a small tunnel of sorts, more like an air conditioner duct, connecting their hiding spot to the next room and Matthew quickly traversed to the next room over, the kitchen, jumping down out of view of any of the staff before ducking into the ballroom in the more shaded part where Ivan stood. "Your Majesty," Matthew bowed to him, though didn't kneel, something Ivan didn't even seem to notice. "What has caused this behavior?"

"They have found Alfred," Ivan said simply and Matthew forgot any sense of formalities and looked the man directly in his eyes in hope.

"What?" Matthew breathed out.

"Due to the circumstances and his location, we can only send one person, you understand that will have to be you, naturally," Ivan said quickly and simply. He would have to return soon. "A servant is outside and will give you the location and a shuttle will be able to take you most of the way. I expect you back by tomorrow."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Matthew said quickly. He hadn't expected to receive news this fast. He had no idea how they had found it, but he wasn't about to doubt it. If it wasn't Alfred, then perhaps he could find something else important, but a part of him desperately wanted to believe that it really was Alfred.

Ivan nodded to him and Matthew bowed once again as the king returned to the party. Matthew stealthily and quickly made it to the entrance, nodding to Kiku and then nodding in the direction of Gilbert, before leaving the room. He would have to return home for a few moments at the very least to get a few weapons, but he already had in mind which ones he would need. He would get there as fast as he possibly could. For Alfred's sake.

* * *

**That happened rather fast, indeed. Goodness, so many words, so much information, so much angst. I can't even deal with all of this at once. Oh, well, it was fantastic in any case. I'm really enjoying this story, guys! Anyway, how did Arthur's team mess up so that they could find Alfred? Did they actually find Alfred? What will happen next? It's all so exciting. Also! I would like to say that, originally, Im Yong Soo wasn't going to be a part of the story (for those of y'all that don't know, that's South Korea), but I had this awesome reviewer that requested him, Ahdaze, and I checked out their profile and I think they're a pretty cool person, so I put in him there just for them. I don't promise he's going to be a major character, he's not, considering Yao isn't even a major character, but I wanted to at least try for them.**

**Anywho…I've talked way too much, his is now over 4000 words… So, please review! And I'll be back soon!**


	7. Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 7. Smoke and Mirrors.

Gilbert grumbled under his breath as he saw Matthew leave. He was alone now…He carefully watched as Ivan rejoined the party. The king always had on this creepy smile whenever Gilbert had seen him. This would make the second time, the first being when Gilbert was incorporated in the group of assassins. He gave the creepy smile to his guests, the big shots from the other countries. Gilbert took a deep breath to center his thoughts. He was alone now, he had to keep up the job. Protect the king, no matter what.

Luckily, the rest of the party went off without another hitch. As the last of the guests departed, Gilbert came down from his hiding spot, entering the ballroom to leave through the entrance and get back home. However, Elizabeta quickly ran up to him to stop him.

"We need to report to the king," Elizabeta said, seeming slightly alarmed. Gilbert was alarmed as well. What kind of job was important enough to whisk Matthew away all of a sudden? "As both Alfred and Matthew are gone, we all need to go together."

"Right," Gilbert nodded with a sigh. Roderich and Kiku joined them as Gilbert followed their lead through the building. He had only been there once before, part of his introduction into the group as well. He wasn't looking forward to being so close to the king.

Once they made it to the room where Ivan apparently normally was, Gilbert stole one quick glance at the man before he kneeled down. He was on a throne of sorts, still dressed like he was for the party, and he had a fairly distressed look on his face. Gilbert dropped to one knee with the others, bowing his head obediently, as much as it made him want to punch something. He hated being submissive to anyone, no matter how important they were.

"Matthew was called away on a mission regarding a reported sighting of Alfred," the king explained simply. "We are unsure if it is true at all." So Matthew was sent on a goose chase? Gilbert clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. "Though I believe it is worth the risk. You will not have a job until the two return, in which case, we will resume as normal. I…I thank you for your service."

Gilbert fought back a growl as they were forced to continue kneeling. He couldn't move, not a single inch, until the king said that they could. It was infuriating.

"You may leave." Gilbert winced at the words. Like he wasn't free to leave whenever he wanted to…But he stood at the same time as the rest and they left without a word. Gilbert took a steadying breath as Elizabeta gushed to Roderich about being able to be so close to the king, like Alfred and Matthew always got to do. Gilbert shook his head as he followed them out of the damned building.

* * *

It was actually a fairly nice day, it was warm and comfortable and Arthur would have been enjoying it if Francis hadn't, once again, run off with Antonio, leaving Arthur alone with Alfred. It was the same as the day before, they were just leaning against a wall, though they were in another part of town. Alfred was observing everyone. That is, until a cat rubbed against his leg and gained all of Alfred's attention. Alfred smiled softly at the creature before kneeling down.

Arthur watched him carefully, just to make sure the man didn't attempt anything, and was pleasantly surprised. Alfred was petting the cat, so delicately that it seemed as though he was terrified of hurting it. It made sense, obviously the man had no feeling in his arms or legs. But it was rather a touching sight to see. The cat seemed eager for more love from him and Alfred laughed just a little under his breath as it rubbed against his legs.

Alfred carefully picked up the cat before placing it on his legs as he crouched and he carefully ran his fingers over the cat's head. The cat rubbed its face against Alfred's and Arthur watched as the man's face softened slightly, looking at the cat happily.

"Do you not have cats in the capital?" Arthur asked. He was hesitant to break up this moment of peace that Alfred seemed to have, but Alfred didn't seem to mind, though he did relapse back into his normal cold façade as he gently stroked the cat's back.

"I normally don't have the time to just sit around and find them," Alfred said. "I've seen a few, but I've never pet one."

"Yes, well, the purring means that it likes you," Arthur chuckled and Alfred nodded minutely. The assassin allowed the cat to flick its tail in his face without his expression changing and the cat deemed the attention enough, leaping from Alfred's legs and standing gracefully to the side. The cat rubbed against Arthur's legs before departing into a nearby alleyway without so much as a meow. "I'm surprised someone like you can actually be that delicate."

"I'm not going to kill anything that doesn't deserve it," Alfred shrugged. "I don't know the strength I'm capable of and what a simple cat can handle."

"What makes someone deserve their death?" Arthur asked coldly.

"Going against the king," Alfred said simply as he stood up. "I already told you that I should kill all of you where you stand, it's just that computer standing in my way."

Arthur sighed, ensuring his grip on the computer. "Francis told me he used it last night. Though from his telling, I believe it was unnecessary. I can't apologize to you on Lovino's behalf, though I do apologize for him antagonizing you."

"I might have killed him if Francis didn't stop me," Alfred said and Arthur noticed him clench his fists. "There's nothing to apologize for. We've all got different perspectives, I guess."

"How did you know he was a soldier?" Arthur asked, changing the subject just slightly. He didn't want to make Alfred irritable, that was the opposite of what he wanted.

"His demeanor," Alfred said. "I've known many soldiers in the past and they all move in the same way because it was so ingrained in them. Lovino acts the same way. I do give you some credit for teaching me something. I didn't know that there was a draft for the military."

"It depends on the time," Arthur sighed. "If it's necessary, there will be a draft, like if there is a war or risk of a war. Currently, there is no draft, though depending on how Eltrack acts in the near future, there may be risk soon enough. Fortunately, there are a few people that are exempt from the draft. For example, none of us seem to exist, including your group. You can't be in the military if you don't exist."

"Some of them used to exist," Alfred said and Arthur definitely took note of Alfred completely leaving himself out of it. He never existed.

"Well, I can assure you, Arthur Kirkland never existed," Arthur sighed heavily. It was in that moment that Arthur saw Alfred's eyes flash up to a rooftop for half of a second. Arthur, however, didn't have the time to look up as well, due to a bullet slamming into a building between Alfred and himself. He hadn't noticed that he had dropped the computer until he saw Alfred pick it up.

No…Not yet…I couldn't happen already…

* * *

Alfred saw him as soon as the cat left. Matthew. He had no idea how he had been found, but all that mattered was getting out. It was broad daylight, which didn't work well for him, but they would have to figure this out as they went. He caught Matthew's gaze, subtly glancing at Arthur. He continued the idle conversation, as he and Matthew figured out a plan just by following each other's eyes.

"Well, I can assure you, Arthur Kirkland never existed," Arthur sighed heavily. Alfred allowed himself to pause for only a second to think about what the man had said. Alfred and Matthew never existed, by any means. There were zero records of them. Kiku was nearly in the same boat, but not quite. But Arthur was a foreigner. It was impossible to get into this country as a foreigner without identification… Alfred looked up at his brother to tell him to go through with his plan.

Arthur seemed to have caught onto it, though he was too slow. Alfred knew his reaction time. Matthew fired a single shot into the wall between their heads and Arthur dropped the computer in surprise. Alfred caught it before the device could even hit the ground and he took off running. Matthew had used a silencer and so only a few people seemed alarmed. Alfred rammed through the crowd, not bothering to look back. It would take some time for Arthur to find some kind of reinforcement and to get them moving.

Sadly, a shot fired at him and Alfred barely ducked in time for it to only graze his hair. He glanced to the side and could clearly see Lovino with his pistol aimed right at him. Alfred cursed but turned a tight corner into an alleyway. Matthew dropped from above to stand beside him and Alfred wasted no time in giving him a quick hug.

"What are you even doing?" Matthew panted slightly, talking as quickly as possible. "It looks like you're just standing there!"

"This," Alfred said, holding out the computer. "No idea how it works, but they can shut off my prosthetics with it." Matthew glanced down at the device. The screen held a vast number of things that could easily be pressed and a large range of numbers. They could figure it out in due time, yes, but they didn't exactly have the time. "How did you find me?"

"Routine checks," Matthew sighed, pulling a pistol from his jacket and tossing it to Alfred, who took it and checked to ensure it had all of the bullets in it, just in case. "Far away cities like this, Ivan doesn't send soldiers to check up, he has other spies. They spotted you."

"Where are we?" Alfred asked and a gunshot whisked by them, slamming into a wall at the end of the alleyway, which was a dead end.

"Close to Eltrack," Matthew said. "Really close. About a mile away from the forest."

"They'll have moved by the time we get back to the capital," Alfred grumbled and turned to glance at their problem. "They have a sniper, but I don't know how fast they can get him into action. Arthur would have to find him first. What's the plan to get out?"

"Didn't know how many were going to try to stop us," Matthew sighed. "The king only sent me because it was the middle of a party. We're winging it."

"Great," Alfred muttered bitterly. "Let's get high ground. As long as the sniper's not an issue, we should be able to get pretty far."

Matthew nodded and the two quickly set to climbing up the walls, Alfred securing the portable computer in the back of his pants, just in case they could use it against him; he still didn't know the range of the thing. They ran quickly, jumping over the small gaps in the buildings acting as their paths and going around the larger ones. There were no more shots at them, but Alfred could clearly hear Arthur shouting through the town. From his vantage point, he could clearly see the forest, the only barrier that his country had with any other one.

"According to regular schedules," Matthew stated, checking the time on a wrist watch that he only sometimes kept with him, "a shuttle should come around here in just a few minutes. We've got to get to the station fast."

Alfred nodded and followed his brother. He had never been in a place like this before, this far from the capital. Matthew only knew where he was going because he had to explore this place for who knew how long trying to find Alfred. There were still no gunshots and they were able to reach the small shuttle station just as the machine started to leave, a clear road to the capital in front of it. The doors were already closed and so Alfred and Matthew simply jumped on top of the machine and caught their breath as it started moving.

Alfred glanced back to see Arthur standing at the station. Alfred shook his head and turned back to face the capital. Why did he look back?

* * *

Alfred couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as he entered his home, breathing in the fresh air. He had tried to go to the king first, though he was apparently busy in some kind of meeting with his advisors, so Alfred had to wait for the time being.

"Shit, it's good to be back," Alfred gave a relieved sigh. Immediately, Kiku's door opened and he smiled.

"Alfred," Kiku said happily and Alfred smirked as he walked with Matthew further into their little home. Matthew rushed to Gilbert's room, knocking on the door.

"Gil! I'm back!" Matthew said happily and Gilbert wasted no time in leaving his room. Roderich and Elizabeta apparently heard the sounds as well and left from their own rooms, seeing Alfred and rushing to his side. Alfred laughed shyly.

"Birdie," Gilbert hugged him tightly. "You're alright. Did you find the idiot?"

"Yup," Matthew nodded happily, glancing back at Alfred, who had been watching their exchange before returning his attention to the others.

"Where were you?" Elizabeta asked, rushed. "What happened? How did they keep you there?"

"Well, turns out they've got these two guys that are good at stealth," Alfred shrugged happily. "Don't know how they are, I met them myself…but they managed to knock me out. And then they had one of their guys use this," he produced the computer for them to see, "to disable my prosthetics. I couldn't move without their say so. I played along just to get some information. I knew you guys would find me sooner or later."

"Have you reported back to the king yet?" Roderich asked. "He's been worried sick about you."

"Nah," Alfred muttered, ignoring the small smile that appeared on his face at the thought that the king was actually worried about him. "He's at an important meeting. I won't interrupt him and his business."

"Let's make you some food while you wait," Matthew offered happily. "To celebrate your return." Alfred smiled and nodded and followed at the back of the group as they walked to the kitchen. Everyone was just so happy. He did notice, however, that Gilbert hadn't moved from his doorway, not until Alfred passed him by. Gilbert gripped harshly onto his arm.

"You're not gonna tell the king all of the information you got, are you?" Gilbert asked, his tone oddly dark and serious.

"Why wouldn't I?" Alfred asked, ripping his arm from the man's grip.

"No reason," Gilbert said bitterly, walking ahead of him. Alfred stared at him in interest. He would have to keep a closer eye on him from now on.

* * *

"They are not diplomats…" Ivan sighed, not looking up from the table in front of him, where his elbows rested heavily. "They are assassins. Nothing else. You honestly expect them to accomplish what you think they can?"

"If you give the order," one of the old men around him shrugged, "it seems they're more than willing to obey, no matter what."

"This is for the good of the country," another old man huffed. "There is a chance that they could be with the revolutionaries. We need to stop that alliance, if it exists, before it can be a problem to us."

"It is a mistake to send them," Ivan shook his head.

"They may not be diplomats," another old man said clearly, "but they are killers. If they prove to be with the revolutionaries, it will save a trip and save time if they are already there."

"Do you realize what you are suggesting?" Ivan snapped, finally looking up at the old men that circled a table. Normally, their requests were only slightly outlandish and fairly easy to execute. But this? This was madness. "If we kill the leaders of the other countries, what do you think will happen?"

"If your assassins are as good as we have seen, they won't know it's us," another old man said.

"If every leader of a country is alive and I still stand, I believe it will be painfully obvious who is at fault," Ivan growled. "You are all just paranoid old men."

"But we are the ones in charge of you," one old man said. "We can easily strip you of your title any time we please."

"Then I wish you luck finding a person Alfred and Matthew are willing to listen to," Ivan sighed and stood up. He held out his hand as the old men threatened to stand as well. "I will do as you ask. It's obviously not my country to control, you make your decisions as you please. If you make any other big decision, be sure to tell me and I will relay it." Ivan nearly knocked over the chair as he attempted to move around it. His hands in tight fists, he stormed out of the room, where guards stood at the doors. No one was to enter that room. No one was to know what happened at these meetings.

Ivan groaned, massaging his forehead as he stood still.

"Y-Your Majesty," a trembling voice said and Ivan glanced up to see his Captain of the Guard, Toris, standing before him. He was scared around Ivan, certainly, but in battle he proved to be rather effective and brave. "I give you good news." He bowed to Ivan, who grimaced as long as the man couldn't see him.

"Rise," Ivan ordered simply and the man stood upright.

"Alfred has returned, I was told I could not interrupt your meeting," Toris reported and Ivan stared at him in surprise before a true, happy smile spread across his face. Alfred was back and he was okay. Naturally, Ivan would only expect as much from the man…but it was a massive load off of his back. He resisted the urge to hug the bearer of such good news.

"Have him come immediately, then," Ivan said, quickly walking past the man before he could give another bow. Alfred was okay…He would never have forgiven himself if the man died on a stupid mission Ivan was forced to send him on. That eased some of his guilt, though he was sure the guilt would return as soon as he saw the man kneel before him with devotion Ivan had done nothing to earn.

* * *

**Secrets, secrets, secrets. All over the place. It appears Gilbert has a secret or two, I greatly enjoyed writing from his perspective, though I don't think it will happen often. Ivan's perspective will be even more rare, though I figured you should be able to steal a glance at what's going on behind the scenes here. I will explain what is going on as the story unfolds, but at this point, we can see that Ivan is simply a figure head with a collective group of old men making all of the decisions for him, unbeknownst to anyone. And Alfred has returned safely! But what will become of Arthur's group now? I think we all know Alfred's not keeping any secrets from his king, after all.**

**Please review! It's a very nice thing to do!**


	8. The Fall

Chapter 8. The Fall.

Alfred was a little worried, actually. He walked with sure steps and didn't allow his face to betray any of the feelings threatening to stir inside of him. He was walking to the king. He had failed him on a mission, he just hoped that he would be able to reconcile for forcing the man to put forth so many resources to find him. He walked up to the door all too soon, though when it opened he was rather pleased to see the king again. It hadn't been long since he had last seen him, but it was good to see him again.

Alfred walked halfway up to the throne as usual before kneeling in front of the king.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," Alfred apologized sincerely. "I should not have-"

"Alfred," Ivan stopped him short and Alfred obediently closed his mouth. "It is good to see you again."

"You as well, Your Majesty," Alfred said, remaining perfectly still.

"Come with me," Ivan said simply and Alfred blinked in surprise, though he wasted no time in standing, already finding the king walking to another door in the room. "This is not the place to talk to you about these matters."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Alfred nodded and followed him, three steps behind exactly. He remembered the day he noticed, with great pride, that his own stride could finally match up to Ivan's. It still did. They walked briskly through a hallway Alfred was unfamiliar with, though Ivan was perfectly relaxed, so he allowed himself to slip into idle observation. Just enough on edge to react quickly if someone attempted anything on the king.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door guarded by Toris and Ravis. Alfred nodded to the two, who nodded to him after bowing to the king. They opened the door, which lead into a room with a table that was connected to the floor and Alfred guessed that it was a large computer that he and Ivan could use together. Ivan wordlessly entered and Alfred followed. The door closed heavily as Ivan motioned to the chair across from where he was taking his seat. Alfred obeyed the silent order, sitting across from him.

Ivan sighed heavily once before looking right at Alfred, who was startled by the action, though he didn't show it. "You were taken by revolutionaries, correct?"

"Yes, I am lead to believe that the group that kidnapped me is a part of the revolutionary army that seems to evade capture," Alfred said. Ivan was being informal, he did not want to be referred to as highly as he deserved and Alfred was more than willing to cooperate with his wishes.

"Tell me about this group," Ivan said simply and Alfred obeyed easily. He explained everything with his perfect memory. On the computer ingrained in the table between them, Alfred was able to create digital copies of the people he had seen that were important, giving names and as much information as he could think of to assist in perhaps finding them. He explained their abilities, as far as he knew them, and their location, though he had no doubt that they had moved by then. Arthur was smarter than that.

"Do you believe they are a danger?" Ivan asked sincerely after Alfred finished. Alfred glanced up from the picture of Arthur that he had finished creating just moments ago.

"They might be," Alfred nodded modestly. "From what I can tell, Antonio is an extremely accomplished sniper, making any movements we will make around him restrained. As I told you, Francis seems to be very good with technology, as evident by the device I gave you," Alfred motioned to the device Ivan was currently holding. He had told Alfred that they would find a way to improve his prosthetics. Alfred told him he could easily withstand the searing pain that would come along with changing prosthetics once again. "Feliciano and Lovino were able to sneak up to me and managed to get me down without my own notice. Ludwig was very skilled in his combat from the small amount of time I sparred with him."

"And this leader of theirs?" Ivan asked in interest.

"He seems capable, though slightly naïve about the world," Alfred reported. "He seemed to think he was capable of…changing my mind about what side I am on. I would never betray you, Your Majesty. He was the hardest to read out of all of them and he is a foreigner, though I don't know which country, so I cannot tell what skills he would have been born with. I did not see him fight truly. There was one incident, which I told you about with the rioters, where my abilities outmatched him, though it did not appear as though he was trying. Everyone else was rather easy to understand, he, however, was troublesome."

"I see," Ivan mused, looking at the image. It wasn't a complete likeness, Alfred was still not very accomplished at programs like this, but he did his absolute best, especially for the king. "We will keep an eye out for them, there is no doubt that they have moved."

"Of course," Alfred nodded his head in agreement.

Ivan sighed, shaking his head. "In other news," Ivan swiped his hand on the computer and Alfred leaned away from it. Ivan eventually made it so that it showed a map of the continent. "I have a new assignment for you, though it will be completely unlike the others."

"I will do anything you ask of me," Alfred said.

"Naturally," Ivan gave a weak smile. He was stressed out about something, but Alfred wouldn't press him to find anything out. "You and two members of your team will be under the guise of diplomats, the other three will stay here in case of any other assignments we will need and to look out for the revolutionaries. You will go to the countries of Merkatus, Prulamuck, and Eltrack, in that order. It has…come to my attention recently that there is a chance of activities against this country going on and we need you to ensure that this country really is safe. I, sadly cannot leave with the state of the country being as it is due to the revolutionary army, otherwise I would do this myself. You will depart in a few days and return about a week afterwards to the capital and resume as usual."

"I would be honored to accept this assignment," Alfred said honestly.

"Who do you wish to take with you?" Ivan asked.

"Matthew," Alfred said and quickly thought about his other options. On a mission like this, Roderich would have been preferable, though he then considered Gilbert's odd behavior. He would have to keep a close eye on him, "and Gilbert."

Ivan seemed interested by this choice, though he didn't say anything about it. "As both you and Matthew will be gone for quite some time, who would you prefer to stand in as leader? I would prefer for you to appoint who you think is most capable."

"Kiku," Alfred said simply. It made sense that he would be chosen anyway, seeing as he had been a part of the team longer than the rest. Though Ivan was trusting Alfred's judgment. Alfred wasn't going to let him down.

"Very good," Ivan said simply and stood up. Alfred followed him. "I believe that is all. It truly is good to see you alive and well, Alfred."

"I will always return to you, no matter the circumstances, Your Majesty," Alfred bowed to him as the king left with another heavy sigh. Alfred glanced back to the map. Diplomats…that was a rather odd assignment indeed, but Alfred was never going to question Ivan, no matter what decision he made. He would have a week to prepare, which would be more than enough time. He would have to ask prior to his departure if he had permission to kill anyone he found guilty of any crime against the king.

* * *

"You asked for a lot, I hope you realize that," Elizabeta huffed from her position leaning back on her desk chair in her room. She glanced back at Alfred, who shrugged shyly from where he stood in her doorway. She chuckled and motioned for him to come closer. Alfred quickly crossed the room, looking at the desk computer lying on her desk. "I looked up any matches pertaining to these people as possible. I started by looking through the databases for anyone registered with their weights and heights. Then I focused on hair and eye color. Then I narrowed it down to their names, just to make it easier. Ready?"

"You're fantastic, Elizabeta," Alfred let out a small laugh as Elizabeta lightly waved her hand at him. She pressed a button on the keyboard and images of Feliciano and Lovino came up first.

"First off, they're brothers, but I figured you already knew that. Lovino was drafted during the war scare a few years ago. Feliciano shortly after he came of age. Lovino deserted the military and Feliciano disappeared a few weeks later. Neither of them have been found since. Assumed dead." Next, Ludwig appeared. "Ludwig's parents were killed by rogue soldiers. Ran away with his brother, neither of them have been seen since then."

"Brother?" Alfred asked. He didn't remember anyone like that around the little group.

"That's the concerning part," Elizabeta nodded gravely, checking to ensure her door was closed. "His brother's name was Gilbert, no picture or information available aside from the name. Like he never existed before."

"Just like us, huh?" Alfred mused. Everyone in their group didn't exist. It was different from Arthur's group, apparently. Arthur's group just ceased to exist, disappeared. Alfred's group never existed. If they did, any and all trace of their existence was wiped thanks to the king. Alfred had never been more thankful that he had decided to bring Gilbert with him to the other countries. "Keep going."

"Antonio," Elizabeta sighed, pulling up the next picture. "Grew up in the same town as Feliciano and Lovino, treated them like family according to sightings of him. He was a good military man, particularly devoted. One day, he ran. There were a few sightings, but after a year, all sightings stopped. Francis next," his picture came up, "he was a nobleman, a little like Roderich, I guess. His father died and he took up after him, keeping up a dead business for old computers. Took a particular interest in electronics. One night, there was a party full of dignitaries, no one saw him afterwards."

"And Arthur?" Alfred asked.

"Arthur Kirkland," Elizabeta sighed heavily, pulling up the last picture. "Never existed. No records, no name. Nothing like Gilbert or any of us. Reminds me of you, if I didn't know any better. As a foreigner, you would expect some kind of identification or way into the country, but there's absolutely nothing. He matches no person in records for this country, or what I stole from our neighbors."

"Guess he wasn't lying," Alfred muttered, leaning closer. The other images were pictures gained from public records, though they were obviously out of date. Arthur's picture was still Alfred's computer generated image. "Thanks, Elizabeta. You really did a great job."

"Took me three days to do it," Elizabeta stretched. "Roddie's a little pissed I haven't been spending much time with him, but that's fine. You still preparing for your mission?"

"Yup," Alfred nodded. "On the bright side, while we're gone, you've at least got this information to help you find them.

"I'm afraid we won't be able to do much with two of our best fighters out of the way," Elizabeta sighed heavily. "From what you've said, they're at least capable."

"In a fair fight that doesn't involve my prosthetics, I think at the very least, Kiku could handle them," Alfred shrugged. "With back-up from you and Roderich. He still needs to improve his fighting skills anyway. Maybe you could help him with that while we're away. You'll need him more than ever."

"Did you get a reason for your huge mission?" Elizabeta asked curiously, finally standing from her desk and walking towards the door.

"I don't need a reason," Alfred shrugged. "But…apparently there's a scare that they could be aligned with the revolutionaries and the king wants us to at least check on the rumors. We have permission to kill whoever we need to, as long as it cannot be traced to him or us and we are left unharmed."

"Did you see the fucking covers he gave us?" Gilbert groaned loudly the second the door opened. He was leaning in the door of Alfred and Matthew's shared room (Alfred kicked his ass pretty well last time he actually entered their room), holding up a tablet with a massive slouch in his back. Matthew was poking his head out of the shared room.

"I don't see a problem with them," Matthew laughed slightly.

"Lovers quarrel," Elizabeta hummed happily as she walked by, towards the kitchen. Alfred grumbled meaningless words under his breath as he rolled his eyes, walking towards them.

"What the hell are you complaining about this time?" Alfred asked. He looked at Gilbert carefully. He looked like he always did, but maybe if Alfred was looking closer, he'd see something as evidence that he really was against them. All Alfred had was speculation and a few facts that he could stretch to try to convict Gilbert. And then there was what would happen to Matthew. Yes, he was a strong man, maybe stronger than Alfred, but there was a close tie between Gilbert and Matthew, no matter how much Alfred wanted to deny it. There was no telling what his betrayal would do to Matthew.

"Our fucking names," Gilbert rolled his eyes. "As dignitaries or whatever. They're ridiculous."

"Do you prefer your last name that doesn't exist?" Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"I used to have one, unlike you," Gilbert scoffed.

"I didn't have one either," Matthew snickered.

"That is a fault in you that I am more than willing to forgive," Gilbert sighed. "But these names, I swear, there's like, zero creativity in them."

"The king's job isn't to be creative, it's to run a country," Alfred rolled his eyes. "Let me see these names if they're so bad."

"Yours is fine," Gilbert grumbled, handing the tablet to Alfred, who glanced at the names. He saw no problem with any of them. "Birdie's is pretty cool, too. But mine? What the hell?"

"What name would you prefer?" Alfred asked, handing the device half-heartedly to Gilbert, who snatched it back quickly.

"Something awesome like my first name, the only thing I was actually allowed to keep…" Gilbert grumbled. He usually complained about his life being erased, which Alfred considered normal. Roderich had a hard time with it his first year. Luckily, Alfred, Matthew, and Kiku didn't have to worry about that sort of thing. Elizabeta seemed fine with it. Gilbert was fighting it, but Alfred had to quell his suspicion. He couldn't let himself think Gilbert was a traitor just because of a few things here and there and just because he hated him. Alfred just had to act like nothing was wrong, observe Gilbert, and the second he found anything incriminating, he would tell the King.

"Hey, Matt," Alfred shook his head, turning to Matthew. "You wanna spar with me?" There was this small building that had to be evacuated due to the unsound structure just a small distance away and Matthew and Alfred generally found time to spar in that building to build up strength. Alfred had also sparred Kiku there, Matthew too, and they found it was a very good space. There was a large space without any obstacles and the fact that there were no mats made the spar seem more real. Made them train all the more harder to avoid getting hurt very bad. None of them knew the meaning of holding back.

"Sure," Matthew nodded with a smile. They hadn't had much of a chance to just be alone together in quite some time. It would be good for both of them. "Good luck getting used to your name, Gil, I'm sorry." Matthew patted Gilbert's shoulder pityingly before joining Alfred in walking to the exit. "Maybe you'll win this time."

"We're still tied for number of wins," Alfred laughed. "And I'm sure I'm gonna pull ahead this time for sure!"

* * *

**Alfred has returned and been in a rather informal situation with Ivan, how interesting. I'm hoping Ivan's perspective changed your mind at least a little bit about all of his interactions with everyone in Alfred's team. We also got to learn extremely brief backstories of everyone. Except Arthur. Which, I've been dropping some hints everywhere about his backstory, which will be fully explained probably all at once some time in the future. The backstories of everyone in Alfred's team will be revealed as well, not to worry. Just give it time. I've decided that, if I don't get around to giving an explicit backstory to these characters, I'll make entire prose out of their backstories, which I will either post on a different story or just as separate chapters in this one. I will probably do the latter, but only when you all have enough information on all of them.**

**Anywho, I'm done talking too much, I haven't been able to write much this week and you can probably tell with how much I'm willing to type right now. You have no idea how good it feels to type…Anyway! Please review! It's fantastic and awesome and keeps me going!**


	9. No Light

Chapter 9. No Light.

They stepped off of the train and Alfred took a deep breath. They had to keep their cover no matter what. This was the farthest he had been from the king, though he was only seconds away, using the portable computers they had brought with them. Though an image of the king on a screen was not as good as the real thing…They kept their weapons perfectly concealed and there were guards around them to keep up the image.

Gilbert complained about it in the train, but now that they had made it to their destination, he was silent. They knew their cues and they had ensured that they could fit their roles as diplomats. It was a very odd stretch, though Alfred was more than ready to kill anyone that he had to.

The train station was rather empty, Alfred noticed. There were guards from the country of Merkatus that easily outnumbered Ivan's guards. There were, however, five people that Alfred recognized clearly a short distance from the train, their undivided attention on them. There was the blonde that attracted the most attention, in the middle, Matthias, who had bright blue eyes and a wicked smile on his face. Then there was the tallest blonde, Berwald, who would have been intimidating if it were not for the smaller blonde, Tino, just beside him with a happy smile right beside him. Alfred could immediately tell that, despite the tall man's build and demeanor, he had a weak spot for the smaller one. There were two others, Lukas and Emil, about the same size as the small blonde, who shared the same expression of boredom. Alfred could tell them apart in that one had more silver hair than blonde and had a small bird on his shoulder. These were the leaders of the country of Merkatus.

"Hello!" Matthias spoke loudly and happily, his arms spread out extremely wide. Alfred smiled right back at him. He could not afford to allow himself to be emotionless, that would give him away. Yet, he couldn't give these people his true emotions. "Welcome!" Matthias walked towards them happily, ignoring the guards that advised otherwise. Tino was more than happy to go with him and the other three followed behind shortly. "You're the diplomats King Ivan sent over, right?"

"Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you," Matthew smiled sweetly. "Matthew Williams."

"Awesome," Matthias chimed and Alfred smirked when he saw Gilbert flinch minutely. They shook hands, as did the rest of the leaders, and then moved to Alfred.

"Alfred Jones," Alfred nodded politely to him with a small smile.

"Gilbert Smith," Gilbert said simply and Alfred smirked once more at how much effort it took for Gilbert to get it out. That was another thing Gilbert had been complaining about the whole trip there. He hated that last name.

"And, of course, we know who you are," Alfred said politely to them. "It is our pleasure to meet you on behalf of our King."

"Of course, there is the question of why the King insisted on such a sudden meeting," Lukas said bluntly after he finished shaking Gilbert's hand.

"We shouldn't talk about it here," Gilbert laughed easily, sliding his hands into his pockets. He was nervous. Alfred sighed through his nose. "This is hardly the place, right?"

"It was also a very long trip," Matthew smiled. "You must give us some time to rest."

"Oh, of course!" Tino chimed, nodding happily. "We already have a driver that will take you three to your hotel and you can meet us for our scheduled meeting in a few hours."

"Thank you for your kindness," Alfred nodded gratefully to them and they followed them without any man making another sound. Alfred watched them carefully as their backs were turned. They did not carry weapons themselves but every guard around them appeared to. They were shown to a car just outside of the train station and Alfred had to control his surprise at the sight before him. He had never seen outside of his home country, though he never anticipated it to be so…different.

The buildings that spread before them were incredibly spaced out and a range of different colors. Cars of any color drove along streets as far as Alfred could see. People bustled around, though the most different thing Alfred could see was the clear sky overhead. He had never seen one like it. There were bright green trees and grass spread around with the buildings and Alfred did not know what to think. He glanced at Matthew, who seemed equally surprised. Gilbert was left completely speechless.

In less than a second, Alfred lost his view as he entered the car. He ensured he did not betray his emotions to the leaders around him. The second the door to the car was closed, however, and the driver began to move, Alfred felt a part of him crack just slightly. Their guards were in the car just behind them and so they were relatively alone, aside from the driver. Alfred glanced at Matthew and Gilbert, who shared his confused look. No matter the side Gilbert was on, there was no doubt that this surprised him, too.

* * *

Alfred decided very quickly he didn't like meetings. He didn't quite have the mind for something like this. Sure, talking through things occasionally with the king was fine. But this? Alfred was about ready to fall asleep at this rate. Gilbert was faring no better. Matthew was at least putting up a good show of feigned interest. It was a simple meeting room with a large table and multiple chairs. It was weird how colorful the carpets were and the fact that the table was made out of trees and then there was the leather on the chairs. It was weird. Alfred, Matthew, and Gilbert sat on one side of the table while the five leaders of the country were on the other. They were talking about trade policies or something and Alfred only responded in the ways that he knew how. Apparently, he was being successful.

"I'm bored!" Matthias complained loudly, leaning back heavily in his chair.

"Now's not the time to act like that," Lukas scolded him sternly. "We are in the middle of a meeting."

"Then let's call a break!" Matthias said happily, slamming his hand onto the wood. Alfred blinked in surprise. Out of everyone in the room, he was the worst at hiding the fact that he was bored out of his mind. Even Gilbert put on a good show. Tino immediately smiled brightly at the thought of it.

"Great idea!" Tino nodded fervently. His eyes brightened significantly at the thought of being able to leave the room for once in three hours.

"Then it's settled," Matthias laughed. "You guys okay with that?"

"Absolutely," Gilbert let out a long sigh, seeing as now it was alright for him to be bored.

"I guess it will be fine to have a break for half an hour," Emil said, straightening out some of his papers. "To collect our thoughts once more."

"Perfect!" Matthias proudly stood up. "I gotta piss." With that, he gracefully left the room, Lukas sighing heavily, glancing back at him. Alfred had to admit, these leaders were far different from Ivan. They were far more relaxed and blunt, even the colder and quieter ones. Based on what they had discussed in the meeting, they were unwilling to make large changes without the consent of the people of the country, an odd concept for Alfred. They also expressed a keen interest on matters of money and trade, something Alfred was fairly unfamiliar with. Not only did he carry no money, but there was usually not much to go around in his home country.

Matthew politely smiled and stood with the rest and Alfred followed his example, Gilbert already standing up to stretch his arms over his head. Tino and Berwald had already walked off, going who knew where, and Lukas and Emil calmly left, oddly leaving them alone. No guards were allowed in the room, though there were some standing guard just outside. Though Alfred knew that, should he be in their position, he would not leave three strangers from another country alone in a room to do what they pleased.

"Got anything yet?" Gilbert asked casually.

"They're curious," Alfred sighed, glancing behind him at the window. It lead to a forest, nothing like the meager one Alfred had seen in his own country. This was large and not meant as a border. It was just a forest. No one lived there. He saw a glint in the forest, however, fairly close to the building and he blinked in surprise, but brought no attention to it, turning back to his partners instead. "We will be here for a few more days until we depart for the next country. We should find some way to bring the king into a conversation, watch their body language and their word choice closely."

"Hopefully, we'll find something out," Matthew sighed.

"I'm going to go for a walk," Alfred said. "It's weird for me not to move for this long, I need to stretch my legs. I'm going to investigate parts of this country while we have the opportunity. You two stay here, don't draw attention to ourselves."

"Right," Matthew nodded and Gilbert smirked, obviously happy for the chance to be alone. For the sake of discovering what was in the forest, Alfred was willing to overlook it for the time being. Until he found proof against Gilbert, that is. Alfred walked calmly through the halls, politely waving back to Matthias, who waved to him as he left the bathroom. Apparently, it wasn't odd for him to be going outside, as no one asked questions of him. He found Emil outside, oddly enough, with his bird, who he was not allowed to bring with him inside. Alfred smiled politely to him before walking away. If Emil wasn't going to ask a question about it, Alfred wasn't about to make himself seem suspicious by giving an excuse.

As soon as he entered the forest, far enough to be out of sight, he dropped his happy façade. He glanced around and pulled out his pistol, just in case he needed to be on guard. He moved carefully through the forest, not making a sound. He looked around for something, anything, that could have made that shine. There was no trash, the forest was surprisingly well kept. Alfred even passed by a heavily used path, evidently marked for the use of the people, for whatever reason.

Alfred didn't go far into the forest, knowing his time limit extremely well. However, he did see a shadow a far distance away behind a tree. It was an incredibly well hidden shadow, obviously meant to be unseen. Very suspicious. Alfred pointed his gun at the tree. He moved closer, just to be sure, but he could clearly see the outline of a man and just the faint outline of the tip of his rifle.

"Who are you?" Alfred asked, just quiet enough to only be heard by the man, who was a short distance from him.

"Oh, wow, you really are good, huh?" a familiar voice asked happily and Alfred was startled when he saw Feliciano poke his head from outside of the tree. "No one catches on that quick. You even pulled your gun on me from so far away, too!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alfred demanded. He was right to not alert Matthew or Gilbert. If he had taken them with him, Feliciano might have hidden better. He had hidden this time to be found and Alfred knew that he was at least good at sneaking around, good enough to knock Alfred out. He kept his gun pointed firmly at Feliciano's head as the man stepped from behind the tree. He held one hand up in the air and, in the other, he held onto a sniper rifle, though the safety was on, which meant he felt no need to shoot it, at least now. At least now Alfred knew where he had seen the light come from. But he doubted it was a mistake. If they wanted a chance to kill them with a sniper, however, they would have sent in Antonio, so that meant Feliciano was just looking.

"I'm here to keep a watch on you," Feliciano chimed happily. "Orders from the boss!"

"Arthur?" Alfred asked suspiciously. It was odd…Feliciano wasn't scared. There was a gun pointed right at him, and he wasn't trembling or scared or begging. He knew Alfred wouldn't fire. "What does he want?"

"To keep an eye on you," Feliciano shrugged. "We're all equally surprised you brought the albino with you, you never do that if you have a choice."

"How many of you are here?" Alfred asked.

"Just me!" Feliciano chimed, placing the butt of his rifle on the ground and leaning on it slightly. Alfred couldn't tell what other weapons the man had hidden on him, he was in a bad spot. "We saw your departure, though. We talked about it before I left. Man, Lovi was furious that I agreed to going alone, especially since both you and Matthew are here."

"Why shouldn't I kill you right now?" Alfred asked. "You know exactly what side I'm on. Why don't you think I'm going to shoot?"

"Well, there's the obvious," Feliciano shrugged, keeping that bright smile on his face. "Your gun doesn't have a silencer and we're in a public place. Then there's the fact that you don't have the time to find a place to put me where I won't be found because I'll be suspicious if I'm found. No record of me except for in Kormall, where you guys are from. And there's the fact that they're gonna find gunpowder on me and they'll suspect you guys and the king, which you can't have. I know you're all on break because, based on all of your guys' body language, you're not done with your meeting today. Matthew and Gilbert will be able to tell that you did something because your demeanor changes just slightly after you've killed someone and they'll get suspicious, but you can't let them know that you know me very well and how much you hesitated with killing me. Do you want me to go on?"

Alfred sighed heavily and clicked on the safety of his gun, storing it back where it came from. Feliciano was talented, at the very least, when he knew what was going on and when he was in full control of the situation. But he kept that incredibly happy, bubbly façade, even now. Even while he explained everything, there was no dangerous glint in his eyes. He was just happy. There was definitely a reason Arthur kept him around. There was no way he could trust Feliciano, either, with the fact that he was alone. There was a chance that the entire group was there, Alfred had to stay alert. But they wouldn't kill him, they had already proven that fact.

"So what now?" Alfred asked.

"You go back, we both keep doing what we're here to do," Feliciano shrugged. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise."

"I don't give you the same one," Alfred said.

"Oh, I already knew that," Feliciano smiled innocently. It was like he hadn't killed anyone, with that smile. But Alfred was sure that he had. "Talk to you tomorrow, Alfie?"

"Don't call me that," Alfred shook his head, turning around. He didn't have a lot of time to get back, especially if he had to seem nonchalant, going through the forest. He didn't say another word and Feliciano didn't either, simply returning to his hiding spot. At the very least, he could tell Matthew and Gilbert that he was seeing if there was anything suspicious in such an odd forest. To the leaders of Merkatus, he couldn't easily tell them that he was curious about the forest, since he'd never actually been in one before. He simply wished, as he stepped through the last of the tree, that he had had the time to enjoy it.

* * *

The meeting started again and Alfred did have to tell Lukas his reason for going into the forest, but he lied easily enough. The meeting continued until it grew dark outside and Alfred was thoroughly surprised to see that there were so many stars to be seen so brightly in the sky.

"You know, I have to say, I'm a little surprised," Alfred joked as the meeting was wrapping up. "You're so much more laid back than the king."

"We don't see the need in so much security," Tino chimed. "It's not like we can't handle ourselves, after all."

"It does seem a little too easy, though," Gilbert said off-handedly. "I mean, giant windows, alone in a room with strangers from another country. I'm not saying that's what we're here for, but this could be an assassination, easy." He laughed just to top it off, show that he was joking as he leaned back in his chair like he didn't have a care in the world. But he was testing them. And they were losing.

"Yeah? Well, I'd like to see how easy it is for someone to kill us," Matthias smirked happily. "Especially when I've got this." He was still joking around, sure, but apparently he trusted them. He reached behind his back and that was when Alfred noticed it. He did have a gun on him, it was just incredibly well concealed. He was pulling out.

Alfred acted on instinct, on reflex, more than anything. He knew that Matthias was showing off, but that didn't matter. If a person ever had a gun and was point blank range from him, he pulled his gun out faster. Alfred also noticed that the man's safety was, indeed off, just in case. It took about half a second for the exchange to happen. Alfred had his gun out in no time at all and the only reason Matthew hadn't done the same was because he had seen Alfred move first, realized how foolish the act was. Alfred only wished he had that sense as he stared at the five leaders in front of him, Matthias with his hands up and he laughed uneasily.

"Wasn't trying to quick draw, I swear," Matthias' voice faltered slightly, he was scared. Alfred had messed up. He lowered his gun as Berwald knocked loudly on the table, a signal for the guards outside.

"You're a genius, Alfred," Gilbert sighed heavily as the guards walked in. Alfred dropped his gun. There were consequences for actions like this, he knew. Pointing a gun at Ivan was punishable by death, but he didn't know how this country worked. One of the men had a strange gun that appeared to hold darts, but Alfred couldn't blow even more of his cover. They didn't seem to be lethal, by the way the guard was carrying his gun.

A dart landed in Alfred's neck and he felt a small amount of pain before numbness washed over him and he crumbled to the ground before there was darkness around him.

* * *

**Long planned scene at the end, there. I have quite a few of those. Anyway, we know Feliciano's there as well now, but he's not really playing around. He's there for the sake of watching, for whatever reason Arthur may have. And Alfred has pointed a gun at a leader of a country, which at least warrants his arrest. Yes, he is arrested, but the way societies work now, they do it all differently, I will explain it more next chapter, don't worry, my darlings. Not much Arthur in the recent chapters, but don't worry, he will be coming back, I swear. It's hardly a USUK story without Arthur, now isn't it?**

**Anywho, enough of me rambling. Please review! It's awesome!**


	10. Resistance

Chapter 10. Resistance.

"He's been arrested," Arthur muttered, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat in a chair, safely in a building in a part of the capital that kept them extremely well hidden.

"_Yup!_" Feliciano's voice chimed in his headpiece. It was astounding that Francis had managed to get their technology to have such a wide range, but he had something else to worry about. He had sent Feliciano to keep track of Alfred, just to see if there was any chance of him changing his mind after being with them, even for just a short amount of time. Feliciano was good with his spying and it did help that they had their original spy to inform them of this…odd mission. Arthur had no idea what Ivan was thinking, sending assassins as diplomats to another country, but they had to go along with it as best as they could.

The revolutionary army was already attempting to create an alliance with the surrounding countries, focusing on Merkatus first due to their favorable government. They hadn't figured for the king to notice their tracks this soon, but that just meant they had to be more careful than usual. If those three found anything suspicious, everything would be over. They couldn't afford a loss like that. Thankfully, it seemed Alfred was helping them in their mission to keep their interactions a secret.

"Thank you, Feli," Arthur sighed heavily, turning around to face the others in the group, all of whom were anxiously anticipating the news. There was an extremely high possibility that Feli could be in serious danger. "Keep up your work."

"_Of course_," Feliciano chimed and the line went dead. They couldn't exactly talk a lot, risking the possibility that they could be noticed. They were in no position to survive any sort of attack placed on them, especially since they were taking the risk of staying in the capital for the time being.

"He's fine," Arthur sighed and Lovino, Ludwig, and Antonio visibly relaxed. Francis made it seem as though he hadn't been stressed out before hand, but he was obvious as well. "Alfred was just arrested for pulling a gun on Matthias, that idiot."

"What the fuck should we care about him?" Lovino snapped. "It's enough we're sending Feliciano to watch him because you think he's changed."

"It's not like we're getting him out of anything," Arthur snapped. "And Feliciano is just observing. He's already come in contact with Alfred and talked him out of a confrontation. We should be fine, as long as Alfred doesn't give away Feliciano's cover. For now, there's nothing to worry about. He'll keep watch for us in case Alfred's brother and the albino find anything, though I doubt they will. It looks like this mission for them is simply for the sake of saving face for Ivan. If it weren't for our spy, that would be all we think it is."

"You have to give him some credit," Francis shrugged. "He is still able to give us information after this long and with no suspicion."

"I wouldn't say no suspicion," Arthur muttered. "Feliciano's noticed a few things in following them the past few days. Alfred has his attention locked on him."

"What do we do now?" Ludwig asked.

"Nothing," Arthur said. "We have no orders from higher up at this point, other than to continue our work with this group. If Alfred doesn't show any signs of changing his mind, we can focus on an easier target, like the woman or her boyfriend."

"And if Feliciano gets hurt during this?" Lovino asked harshly.

"I take full responsibility," Arthur said. "It's not likely, but if a single scratch were to get on him, take your anger out on me."

"Are you quite sure that's a good-" Francis tried to interject.

"I'm used to it," Arthur stopped him and Lovino nodded, a little hesitantly. "Any other questions?" No one answered." Good. Antonio, keep up your watch, we have to make sure none of the soldiers find us suspicious. If all goes well, Feliciano can return here after this mission and we can move somewhere more comfortable."

Antonio nodded at the order and set to work. Lovino stalked off, intent on getting away from Ludwig, who simply sat on the couch, deep in thought, most likely about the fate of Feliciano. Francis, however, nodded his head towards the kitchen, intent on talking with Arthur. He followed the man. No one was relaxed as they had been in the last town. They had to be on high alert at all times.

"I fear you're getting a little too attached to Alfred," Francis sighed heavily, speaking quietly so Ludwig couldn't pick up their conversation.

"We need to keep our attention on him, in any case," Arthur said. "I have no doubt he's already told Ivan about every single one of us. If we aren't careful, we could die because of this slip up."

"Ah, so you feel nothing towards the man?" Francis raised an eyebrow.

"I find him interesting, that is all," Arthur sighed. "I don't care what you're implying, Francis, we need to be careful."

"I agree your focus on him is warranted," Francis put his hands up in surrender. "However, I did notice the concern in your voice as Feliciano gave you information."

"Because he's an idiot," Arthur scoffed. "He pulled a gun on a leader of a country. It wasn't concern, I just simply couldn't believe it. Have you had enough trying to find love where there isn't? I can see exactly what you're doing."

"I am doing nothing," Francis smirked, just slightly. Just a twitch in the corner of his lip. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. "And I would place more thought into allowing Lovino to let his anger out on you."

"It won't matter, in any case," Arthur sighed. "Feliciano will return, safe and sound. There will be no anger for him to let out on me. I doubt he can do worse than what I've experienced in the past, anyway. Are we finished? I have work to do, concerning finding another place for us to stay."

"Go ahead," Francis sighed, motioning for Arthur to go on.

Arthur shook his head. Francis only wanted to talk to him to see Arthur's reaction, that was all. Arthur knew from when they had originally taken Alfred that Francis had, evidently, seen some kind of connection. One Arthur had yet to even glimpse at. In any case, it was as simple as squashing Francis' fantasies and they could resume work as usual.

* * *

"You're brother's a fucking idiot," Gilbert scoffed, continuing to pace in front of Matthew, who was sitting still on his bed. After Alfred had been detained, they were left under "house arrest", as it were, in the hotel that they were staying at. Gilbert had elected to stay with Matthew, who was trying to think of some way out of this. It didn't look like Alfred had been killed, he was just arrested. They used a tranquilizer unlike anything Matthew had seen before. Matthew supposed that was to ensure that Alfred didn't try anything during arrest. Now, however, was an entirely different mess. If they made a single mistake, that would mean they would be arrested and the mission would be a failure. He couldn't fail the king. That wasn't an option. They had to be careful.

"It was reflex," Matthew muttered. "I nearly did it, too, but Alfred was just faster."

"You two need to learn to relax," Gilbert groaned. "It was going fine, we could have made it back to the capital in just a few days! Now we're fucked. We're so fucking fucked!"

"We'll think of something," Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not uncommon for diplomats to carry weapons, even in this country. We can just say that Alfred is paranoid, that will be fine."

"Yeah, and how are we going to explain his arms and legs to them?" Gilbert asked. "They're going to notice that in his arrest. They're kind of obvious if you're looking. It's not normal for your prosthetics to have fucking swords."

"We'll think of something," Matthew repeated himself. This was horrible. He couldn't believe this could have gone so wrong in such a short amount of time. It didn't even take a second for them to mess up. But he couldn't blame Alfred. Matthew had nearly done the same thing. He had a gun, safety off, ready to point it. It was reflex, it had been ingrained in both of them since they were little kids.

"I'm sorry, Birdie," Gilbert grumbled, turning his attention to the window. "I'm just stressed out." He stopped in front of the window, staring out of it in half-interest. Then, he stiffened suddenly and Matthew immediately turned his attention to him. "Shit. Why is he here?"

"Who?" Matthew was immediately on his feet and stood at the window. Walking out of a car and towards the hotel was none other than Feliks, the king of Prulamuck. He flipped his hair happily at the people that took pictures of him and talked to him. "Shit." He could only think of one reason why the man was here; he had heard of Alfred's detainment. They were to go to Feliks' country next, but now that it was heard of that Alfred had pointed a gun at a leader of a country… "We need to change our plan."

"To what?" Gilbert scoffed. "We're basically detained, just like Alfred! How the hell are we supposed to continue with the mission like that?"

"We have to," Matthew muttered. "It's not impossible, we can figure something out. Our goal isn't diplomatic relations, it's to see if they're in league with revolutionaries. We can do that through conversation. Depending on how it goes, we will most likely be sent back home. As long as we complete what we set out to do, that will be enough." He sighed sadly when he thought about how he had failed Ivan. He had no doubt that Alfred would feel the same. Gilbert had been with the group for the least amount of time, so he probably didn't feel the same. The king had done everything for them and they fail him? Not acceptable.

"Not everything is about the mission," Gilbert muttered. "You should think about your safety first. The king even seems to think so, based on what happened with Alfred disappearing."

"You don't understand," Matthew shook his head, watching as Feliks entered the hotel. He stepped from Gilbert to slump onto the bed again. "Our safety doesn't matter."

"Why not?" Gilbert asked. "Aren't you guys human?"

"I've never considered myself one," Matthew muttered.

* * *

Alfred knew he had to be careful when he felt his consciousness slowly return to him. He clearly remembered exactly what he had done to get himself arrested. He didn't open his eyes at first, rather he focused on making it appear as though he was unused to this kind of treatment, like it was difficult for him to regain consciousness, even if no one was there. He was a diplomat, not an assassin. And who knew what position his brother was in right now because of him…He just had to be careful from here on out.

Once he finally opened his eyes, he was surprised by the room he as in. It appeared to be more of a medical facility than any sort of detainment room. He had no idea how long he had been under. In any case, he looked around a little more in investigation. He tested just to make sure his hands and feet could move, since he couldn't feel if they were there or not. He made sure he was slow to sit up, though he found that no one was in the room with him as of yet. There were a few monitors that he was hooked up to and it took a lot of patience to not rip them out of him. Based on everything around it, Alfred knew that, at the very least, they were aware of his prosthetics. And most likely the secret they hid.

The door finally opened and Alfred pretended to jump and the sudden movement. He made eye contact with Matthias, oddly enough. He hadn't expected the person he pulled a gun on to be is first visitor, but this country apparently did things very, very different.

"You know, I gotta say, I give you props for the quick draw," Matthias joked lightly as he entered the room and the door closed behind him. No guards. Interesting. Alfred chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his head delicately. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" So he was the one interrogating Alfred, checking to see if there was anything suspicious. Alfred had no doubt that they had already asked Matthew and Gilbert questions and Alfred would have to create the same answers as them.

"I was in the military for a little while," Alfred shrugged easily. This seemed like the easiest lie to come up with. "It kinda becomes reflex after a while of other people with guns. You just have to learn how to be faster. I am sorry about that."

"It's fine, no one got hurt in the end, right?" Matthias laughed, keeping up the light-hearted air. He wasn't exactly one to be serious, Alfred figured. He was similar to Gilbert in that aspect. "You've got some pretty awesome prosthetics, though. What happened, if you don't mind me asking."

That was an easy question to answer, all Alfred needed was the truth there. "Counter revolutionaries back from when the king took power. They thought it would be funny to mess up a baby for life."

"And the swords you've got hidden?" Matthias asked. "They're pretty awesome, don't get me wrong, but they're not exactly normal, at least not here."

"I'm a diplomat going to another country," Alfred shrugged. "I know from the military how stressful it can be and you gotta know how to protect yourself, right? It's not like anyone can tell, right? You only figured it out after you hooked me up to machines." Alfred laughed and Matthias laughed as well, but Alfred could tell by looking at his eyes that he was a little intimidated. He was a little scared. Alfred may not have guns on him anymore, but he still had the prosthetics. It was an incredibly complicated and painful procedure to change them and so this country had no way of ensuring Alfred had different prosthetics.

"Fair enough," Matthias shrugged. He leaned heavily against the nearest wall. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, I really am. As much as I'm chill with you staying, a bunch of people, and a few of my colleagues, believe that we should end this exchange for now. We're still peaceful with your country and all, but we're all a little shaken up. No one in this country wants to see a leader fall, you know?"

"I understand," Alfred shrugged easily. He had no room to move around and look to see if they were in league with revolutionaries. He had to hope that Matthew and Gilbert were able to see anything. They couldn't come back from this mission with failure. That wasn't an option.

Matthias opened his mouth to say something in response, but the door opened and this time Alfred was surprised. Feliks was on the other end of the door this time and Alfred blinked in shock while Matthias really jumped slightly to the side. Feliks looked the same as ever, eternally relaxed, but obviously shy in front of strangers if you looked at the subtle signs. His long blonde hair was obviously taken very good care of and his green eyes glinted happily. He was dressed incredibly pompously, and it was obvious that he had been told to take off his crown, as he often was when he went to different countries.

"Like, holy shit, I found you!" Feliks announced proudly and Alfred sighed. He was the one person he wasn't looking forward to coming in contact with. He was unpredictable at best and hard to get proper information about. Alfred still sometimes wondered how his country stayed in one piece. "Awesome, I thought I'd be looking forever."

"Feliks!" Matthias snapped at him while Alfred looked on cautiously. Matthias' entire demeanor changed just with the entrance of the man. He was on guard now, like he was afraid of something. Alfred watched carefully. "I told you to wait back at the hotel!"

"Yeah, but that was totally boring. But seeing a possible assassin? Wicked!" Feliks laughed heartily and Alfred blinked at him. He really didn't keep secrets well at all.

"He's not an assassin," Matthias sighed and Alfred could tell by the tone of his voice he didn't think he was lying. Perfect. Alfred was cleared of suspicion, at least from Matthias.

"Whatever you say," Feliks shrugged and then turned his attention to Alfred. "I'm, like, totally psyched for you to come stay at my place! You and your buddies, it'll be so, incredibly fun, yo!"

"Yeah," Alfred said carefully. He didn't know how to properly deal with someone like him. He had to wonder how Ivan had managed to have conversations with him in the past at parties.

"At least calm down a little," Matthias rolled his eyes. "He's used to his own country, not yours."

"Uck, yeah, your country's so bland and boring!" Feliks groaned. "But whatever, you'll see the total awesomeness of mine in no time at all!"

Alfred blinked in surprise. So Feliks knew he had pulled a gun on Matthias and yet he wasn't even afraid of him. This would be very interesting indeed.

* * *

**So now we get to see Feliks, who I love writing, by the way. He's so much fun, I just never include him in my plots. But he's here now! And we'll have to see how Alfred, Matthew, and Gilbert make their way out of this situation. And don't forget about poor little Feliciano and how he's pretty much stuck in hiding for the time being. I'm very excited for what's going to come up soon, so you should be too!**

**Please review!**


	11. Smile Like You Mean It

Chapter 11. Smile Like You Mean It.

"We have another one," Gilbert sighed heavily from the window. Matthew, who had been sitting cross-legged on the bed, thinking, perked up and glanced at him in interest. He had been brainstorming a proper way out of this situation. Emil and Lukas had already been in their room, asking them about Alfred, most likely to match up answers. Matthew came up with the first things that came logically to mind, as he hoped Alfred had done, talking about military and basic protection. He was sure he and Alfred could come up with matching answers, as long as nothing weird happened. Sadly, it looked like something bad was already happening.

"What?" Matthew asked curiously, not standing up as Gilbert glared out of the window. They had to be careful about what they said while they were in there. Before, there had been no guards on their door. Now, they had apparently thought better of it and there was one man outside of their door.

"Yong Soo," Gilbert muttered. "Why? What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Yong Soo?" Matthew asked, carefully standing up. Sure enough, he saw the man walking happily to their hotel. How many people were staying here? They never even thought about going to Eltrack, but they would have figured that if Yao wanted to know what was going on, he would go himself, not send in his advisor. Obviously, he wasn't suspicious of Yong Soo if he allowed the man to come here alone. "Maybe Yao heard about what happened but he didn't want to risk coming himself, just in case the rumors were true."

"What rumors?" Gilbert asked. "They obviously don't want to make this an international incident. There's been no news anywhere, I've been checking, don't worry. He might have heard just like Feliks."

"Why would he be here?" Matthew muttered. "It just doesn't make sense. Yao doesn't really have anything to do with us or what we're doing."

"Maybe he's talking to us on behalf of Yao?" Gilbert muttered. "Or just because he wants to talk to us himself."

"If he's the one talking to us, that's a problem," Matthew grumbled. "There are too many variables right now. If Alfred would just come back, everything would be so much easier."

"If you ask me, we shouldn't have been sent on this mission anyway," Gilbert scoffed.

"I'm not going to question the king's reasons," Matthew said simply. It didn't matter why the king sent them on this mission, all that mattered was that he did. He had his own reasons and Matthew wasn't one to question him at all.

"Of course not," Gilbert sighed and Matthew raised an eyebrow curiously. He heard the footsteps down the hallway and his attention diverted to the door. It could be Yong Soo, but he doubted it, based on the sound of the footsteps. They stopped in front of the door and Gilbert's attention moved to the door as well. "Think it's Yong Soo?"

"Doubt it," Matthew muttered and the door opened, revealing Alfred, acting like he was being sheepish due to Matthias and Feliks being behind him. Matthew felt a huge wave of relief wash over him.

"Hey," Alfred chuckled slightly, his hands in his pockets.

"You're an idiot," Matthew shook his head, but he couldn't stop the small smile on his face. He'd been too far away from his brother too much lately.

"Oh, whoa, you totally do have an albino with you!" Feliks chimed happily and Gilbert seemed a little surprised by the sudden attention. Alfred swiftly apologized again to Matthias before quickly going to stand beside Matthew. "That's, like, so totally cool, dudes!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty awesome, I know," Gilbert smirked at the sudden attention, from a king no less. Matthew rolled his eyes at him.

"So this means that we are clear of suspicion?" Matthew asked carefully.

"Yeah, Alfred was a soldier," Matthias shrugged. "It was reflex, no big deal. I don't really care that much anyway. No harm done, right?"

"Yeah, but we gotta go back to our country," Alfred sighed sadly. "I totally messed up guys, sorry."

"It's, like, totally lame that my advisors barred you guys from coming," Feliks groaned. "We could've had so much wicked cool fun!"

"You guys can stay for one more day," Matthias said simply. "You don't get to see much out of your own country, anyway, so this might be a good chance, right?" Alfred, Matthew, and Gilbert let out a small chorus of laughs, but Matthew was a little on edge. Why let them stay another day for the mere purpose of letting them see the country? That was slightly suspicious, but he couldn't let himself be known.

"It's, like, totally a bummer that you guys can't come over to my place," Feliks scoffed, flipping his hair over his shoulder. "It would be so sick, you guys could see my ponies and shit."

"Sorry we have to miss it," Alfred nodded his head sadly, but it looked like Gilbert was fighting back some of his own laughter. "I don't think it would be a good idea with the current circumstances. Maybe we can arrange something in the future."

"Totally!" Feliks said happily. "Oh, dudes, I heard Yong Soo was here, I gotta check it with him real quick, be back laters!" With that, he left the room, leaving the three assassins to be left in confusion. Matthew had never really spoken to Feliks before, he had mostly heard of some of the conversation from Ivan, who didn't like the man very much.

"I'm gonna make sure he doesn't break something," Matthias said. "Feel free to go out whenever you want." He rubbed the back of his head. "I hope you don't mind, really, but you've gotta let our guards check you over for weapons every time before you leave."

"It's no problem, I think you got most of mine, anyway," Alfred shrugged.

"Right," Matthias laughed, a little uneasily, glancing obviously at Alfred's arm. He left the room, closing the door solidly behind him and Alfred slumped onto the nearest bed.

"I'm sorry," Alfred muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I fucked up."

"Yeah, you did," Gilbert nodded and Matthew hit him sharply with his elbow.

"I nearly did the same thing, it's fine," Matthew sighed. "Right now, we have to focus on what our original mission was. We have to find out if they really are teaming up with the revolutionaries. So far, their behavior is only slightly questionable."

"Them wanting us to stay for another day to just look around is slightly suspicious," Alfred muttered, glancing up at Matthew. "It's extremely similar to what Arthur and his group attempted with me, if what I'm guessing is correct. They have us see a 'better' life, outside of the king's country, and attempt to change our minds and see what they want us to see."

"Did you find anything out about Feliks?" Gilbert asked. "He seems like the kind of person that doesn't keep a secret well."

"He knew I was suspected as an assassin," Alfred said. "Which is suspicious in itself. Couple that with the fact that Yong Soo is here and I think we have a small problem. It seems, at the very least, the leaders of the three countries are communicating without keeping the king in the loop. If Ivan knew, we would know by now."

"I would say our best bet would be to take Matthias' advice and look around," Matthew offered. "It seems he wasn't lying when he said that suspicion was off of us, at least for the time being. Everything else is just simple precaution. If we look around their capital, we might be able to find something. If there are enough people with revolutionary ideals, we might be able to come back to the king with information."

"We should split up," Alfred nodded, standing up as well. That was good, it seemed his confidence was a least slightly back up. Surely, it would go down when he had to report to the king, but Matthew wasn't going to focus on that right now. "That way we can get as much information as possible. I'll take the area near that forest, it's pretty large and I suspect someone could possibly be hiding there. Matthew, you can look around the outskirts of the town and Gilbert can look in the most populated areas, around this hotel and the train station."

"Yes, sir," Gilbert half-heartedly saluted him and Alfred nodded, looking at him for a little bit longer than necessary. Alfred was suspicious of him…but why? Matthew hadn't heard anything important.

* * *

Alfred sighed heavily from where he stood. He was being as casual as possible, leaning against a simple wall while he watched the people of the city move around on their usual lives. It was…annoying. The people here reminded him of the town that Arthur had shown him. They were relaxed, they spent more time than they should have on just talking or having fun. And this city was laid out far differently than anything Alfred had seen before in any city in his country. The buildings were well-spaced out and there was a lot of open space for people to just sit around and talk with their friends. It was very weird.

Sadly, the weirdest part about it was the fact that Alfred was almost…jealous. But he couldn't be. His king had his reasons for every decision he made in their country. There was a reason why it was laid out differently. But the people in this country seemed so much more happy and more free to make decisions. Alfred shook his head furiously. This was just Arthur's opinions in his head talking to him. Alfred couldn't think like that, that would be on par with betraying the king. He had to stay focused, he had to complete this mission and then go back home. He wouldn't leave his country unless the king told him to do so again. It was as simple as that.

"Ah, there you are!" Alfred blinked at the slightly familiar voice. He had maybe heard it once in his life before. He glanced over at the source and winced when he saw Yong Soo happily walking over to him, a mass amount of attention following him. He didn't even have a guard on him, but Alfred could see that he had a few knives hidden on his person meant for throwing, just in case. He wasn't being stealthy at all.

"Im Yong Soo," Alfred nodded to him, standing upright. He wasn't a leader of a country, but he was standing in for one, as far as he could tell. Yao must have sent him there for a reason, whatever that may have been. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have something important to tell you!" Yong Soo said and his demeanor reminded Alfred slightly of Feliciano. He kept up this really bright and happy façade, even while talking of important things. But Alfred was willing to bet that it wasn't really a façade. "You can give a message to your king, correct?"

"Yes," Alfred nodded simply.

"Perfect!" Yong Soo nodded happily. "You can tell king Ivan that I accept his deal. I already have information for him, if you are willing to carry that to him as well."

"Are you sure I should listen to information like this?" Alfred asked carefully. He didn't know of any deal, but he did know of Yong Soo's disloyalty to Yao and that Ivan was attempting to win him over. If they had succeeded, perhaps Alfred could bring good news to the king. That was a relief.

"If king Ivan sent you, I'm sure he has the utmost trust in you," Yong Soo nodded happily. "I know that Yao is aligned with revolutionaries from your country that intend to overthrow him. I can't give a lot of other information, though. I would need a little more time to find out who else is aligned with them."

"That's perfect!" Alfred couldn't stop himself from smiling. This was too perfect! He resisted the urge to hug the stranger in front of him, though he had no doubt that the man would hug him right back. "You have no idea how perfect this is right now, thank you!"

"Of course!" Yong Soo chimed. "I'm more than happy to the bearer of good news! I still can't forgive Yao for how he ruthlessly conquered the territory my country used to be. Your king promised me that I would be able to get that territory back so everyone there can get a better life!"

Alfred smiled slightly. Right, the king was a good man. This was just reassurance of that. The people may not have been happy, but that was just the temporary price to pay for everything to get better in the future. Of course. Everything was just fine, there was absolutely no reason to question the king.

"Thank you, I will be sure to tell the king of your commitment," Alfred nodded, still smiling brightly. He didn't care anymore that he had dropped his mask. They finally had good news to bring back to the king. This venture wasn't a complete loss, after all. What a relief.

"No problem!" Yong Soo nodded. "Now, I should get back. Yao only sent me to check in on the matter of a possible assassin, but I don't believe that you could be one! Goodbye!"

Alfred nodded to the man as he jogged off. Who knew how long he was looking for him. No doubt, he had discussed with Matthias and Feliks about the incident, but he didn't seem worried at all. This was good. They now had their own spy watching out for the revolutionaries. Alfred looked back at the bustling, happy town around him. He was sure, under the king's leadership, that his own country would bloom like this as well.

He walked forward, just to see if he could find anything else and bring even better news to Ivan. As he started walking, however, a ball rolled and lightly hit his leg before stopping. Alfred looked down at it before looking at where it came from. A group of small boys ran towards him, some of them seeming shy but one coming forward proudly.

"Hey, mister, sorry about that," the boy said with courage Alfred hadn't seen in any little boy in his home country. "Could we have our ball back?"

"No problem," Alfred smirked before kicking the ball up high and doing a quick trick with it, juggling it between his elbows before head-butting it to the kid. "Need another player?"

The kid's eyes grew bright and huge in surprise before he eagerly allowed Alfred to join their game. It was exactly like the one he had played in the town Arthur had shown him.

* * *

**Just so you guys know, like, half of this chapter was written out while my friend was reading the My Immortal fanfic out loud at school. Just in case some of this is horrible, that's why. Also, I'm not extremely well versed in Korea, so I'm sorry if he was terribly OOC, but I'm going off of a lot of other FanFics I've read with him in it. And it's not like I can reference how things originated in Korea in this fic and also, this is serious talk, so no boobs. Lol. Anywho…Things happened, it doesn't seem like a lot, but a lot happened. Very psychological for Alfred here.**

**Anyway, please review and look forward to what happens next chapter! ;)**


	12. Kill Your Heroes

Chapter 12. Kill Your Heroes.

The sun was setting and it was almost time for him to meet back up at the hotel with Matthew and Gilbert. He knew without a doubt that Feliciano was still in the forest, which was exactly why he had decided to go to that area. He couldn't risk Gilbert getting close to him on the chance that he was actually against them and he couldn't risk Matthew coming by and killing him, due to the fact that Feliciano might be good for information gathering on Alfred's part. He glanced into the forest before glancing back to the city. A lot of people were still out and about, oddly enough, despite it getting dark out. In fact, it seemed like more people were out and about than they were earlier that day.

He entered the forest when he was sure no one had seen him. He could guess Feliciano might be around the same place as he was last time. He walked around carefully and quietly, listening carefully to any sound that might have come from a person around him. Luckily, he didn't find anything until he came to the place where he had seen Feliciano the last time. This time, he was in the same place, leaning against a tree and waving at him.

"You're still here," Alfred sighed heavily. This time, he had no gun to protect him. He did have the swords in his prosthetics and he hoped that he could be faster than Feliciano, but he was never able to test his reflexes and speed when he was with their group.

"Yup!" Feliciano nodded proudly. "I haven't gotten any orders to leave yet!"

"Have you slept at all during your time here?" Alfred asked.

"While you were arrested, for a few hours," Feliciano shrugged. Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why are you back?"

"You should get out of here," Alfred said. He honestly didn't know why he was doing this or why he was talking to him, but it wasn't like he could take it back now. "We're leaving sooner than we anticipated."

"Why are you warning me?" Feliciano asked curiously.

"Just…just fucking go," Alfred shook his head. "If Arthur sent you to change my mind, it's not-" Alfred stopped when he heard a footstep, followed by another one. "Shit," he muttered under his breath before quickly and silently moving behind another tree. Feliciano, however, didn't move, simply looking at him curiously. He couldn't hear the footsteps. "Get down."

"Why?" Feliciano asked simply. "You came yourself, right? And all of your group should be separated, I watched it happen myself…"

"Get down," Alfred hissed. He didn't know why he was protecting Feliciano like he was, but he figured it was mostly due to the fact that, if he was found together with him, his brother might suspect him of something.

"You're too nervous all the time," Feliciano laughed. The footsteps stopped. Alfred felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

A single shot fired and Feliciano tensed too late, unable to move in time. Alfred saw the man's face, frozen in shock, as the bullet easily passed from one temple and out the other. Feliciano fell over with a quiet thud and Alfred felt his breath catch. He couldn't make a sound, couldn't signal where he was. Shit, this was bad.

"Whoever else is there, move out now," Matthew ordered coldly. Alfred glanced around minutely to find a way out. He had to predict his brother's moves. He could do this. He heard Matthew start to move, but there was another pair of footsteps, too. Gilbert. That was perfect. He had to act quickly, if he was going to get out of this safely.

Matthew probably didn't know where Alfred was, considering how large the tree was. Alfred quickly picked up a twig with his foot and easily kicked it over to his right. Both pairs of footsteps stopped. Alfred knew Matthew would look to the left while Gilbert looked to the right, giving him plenty of room right where he was to climb the tree. He clamored up quickly and silently, crouching high up in the branches. He looked down to see Matthew looking forward again, but he couldn't have heard Alfred.

He could see Feliciano's corpse easily from his position, his head still bleeding out onto the dirt on the ground. He couldn't understand the emotions swirling inside of him in that moment. He wasn't even that close with Feliciano, so why did he feel a slight pang in his heart when he watched the man die right in front of him?

"Shit, Birdie, what the hell happened?" Gilbert asked, running towards him once he discovered that there was no longer someone moving around. Alfred watched carefully. He was sure, if Gilbert was aligned with the revolutionary group, that he would react in some way to seeing Feliciano's corpse. "You fired your…" Gilbert stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Feliciano on the ground. Alfred narrowed his eyes as he saw Gilbert's widen.

"This is one of the people from that revolutionary group," Matthew mused, looking at Feliciano in interest, relaxing his gun for the moment. Obviously, he thought that the person hiding had run. But he was still on edge. He didn't look back at Gilbert, obviously too focused on what was in front of him. "I saw him talking to someone. They couldn't have gone far, we should look around for them." Alfred made sure he didn't move even a muscle.

Matthew finally glanced at Gilbert, who didn't even spare him a glance, staring at Feliciano's corpse.

"Gil?" Matthew asked. "You okay?" No response. Matthew tentatively took a step towards him. "Do you…recognize him?" Shit, now Matthew was suspecting something. This wasn't good. What would Gilbert do now? Matthew took another step forward and this time Gilbert flinched, immediately running in the opposite direction.

Alfred followed after him quickly, allowing his sound to be covered up by Gilbert's. Matthew didn't even seem to move at all and Alfred didn't allow Gilbert to leave his line of sight. Alfred followed him to the end of the forest and dropped to the ground behind him as soon as Gilbert left the trees. Gilbert was at least shocked enough by the sound to stop running. Matthew still hadn't followed them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Alfred snapped and him and Gilbert blinked, seeming to only now be coming to terms with the situation.

"I'm leaving, now," Gilbert said, his demeanor and stance as sure as ever, but his voice was trembling. Feliciano really had affected him a lot. He looked about ready to break into tears. "Do what you fucking want, attack me, follow me, I don't give a shit, but do it now."

"Follow you?" Alfred all but scoffed. But a very small part of him, the part that played ball with those children, found him actually wanting to go. He glanced back to where his brother was. He had no idea what he was doing, if he wasn't following them.

"I'm not waiting," Gilbert muttered, glancing back at the forest. Alfred could see a little bit of rage rise in his eyes, but they softened. He was extremely conflicted. Was it because Matthew was the one that killed Feliciano? Did he really care for Matthew, then? "You've seen enough to make your own fucking decision."

Alfred stared at him. Why was it hard to make this decision? Of course, he was with his king, that was only natural. But…what he'd seen recently, regarding not only the town the revolutionaries showed him, but also the one he'd been in the past few days…No, he couldn't sway his decisions so easily. He had to stay strong…But he could tell something was wrong. Even just the way that these country leaders carried themselves was different.

Why was he debating this?

Gilbert shook his head and turned around to start running. Alfred looked to the forest. What was he doing?

At first, Alfred's feet moved without his permission, shuffling after Gilbert, then it turned into a sprint to catch up with the man in front of him.

What the hell was wrong with him?

* * *

"Shit…" Alfred muttered under his breath once the two of them finally stopped. They had run for a few miles and they were far enough away for it to be impossible for Matthew to follow them. Gilbert glanced back at him, but he was different. There was no cocky air about him, he had no remark to give him, he just looked at him coldly, if not a little interested. "Why the hell did I...?"

"Too late now," Gilbert said simply. "You left, it's as simple as that. Would he really take you back now that you even thought about betraying Ivan?"

"You were a fucking spy!" Alfred snapped at him. "This whole time?"

"I knew you were on to me," Gilbert almost smirked, but the small tilt in his smile disappeared soon. "Figured I'd have to leave soon anyway. Didn't figure the catalyst would've been…" Gilbert glared at the ground.

"Everything you told us," Alfred growled. "It was a lie? Everything you did?"

"I did what I had to do to get information," Gilbert said. "That's all there is to it. I tried to kill as little as possible. But don't think for a damn second I lied the whole time."

"How the hell did you get into our group if you were just going to betray us the whole time?" Alfred asked. "How the hell did the king let you into our group?"

"I pulled a lot of strings, alright?" Gilbert asked. "Drop it. It's not important anymore."

"It damn well is important," Alfred snapped.

"So what?" Gilbert scoffed. "I was supposed to tell you? I was supposed to warn you that I was gonna fucking betray you? Get over it, you did it too."

"I…" Alfred muttered, running a hand through his hair. He did, he betrayed his brother, everyone on his team, and his king. Oh, God, what did he do? Alfred dropped to the ground, looking at the grass around him. He didn't know how close they were to the capital, but he was sure that the grass and the trees would all disappear eventually.

"Don't beat yourself up," Gilbert sighed. "But don't fucking blame me, either, got it? Ya don't think I'm distraught about this shit, too? You don't even fucking know what Feliciano meant to me."

"My brother means a lot to me, too," Alfred snapped. "And you just betrayed him…I did, too…" Alfred ran a hand through his hair to try to collect his thoughts. Everything he knew, he had just abandoned. And why? Because someone he barely knew was dead? God, he was so fucking stupid!

"Don't beat yourself up," Gilbert said, shaking his head. "You made your decision, I made mine, let's move on. We can wait just a little bit, but we've gotta keep moving. Who knows if Matthew's going to chase us, we have to be ready."

"Where are we even headed?" Alfred scoffed.

"I've got a little information, I can sometimes communicate with Arthur," Gilbert sighed, kicking lightly at the ground. "They've got a temporary base in the capital for now. We'll probably move the second we get there, if they haven't moved already. I've got a few ideas if they're not there."

"And then what?" Alfred asked.

"We keep going," Gilbert said. "Our goal is to kick the king out of power and put someone else in, change things for the better. With or without you, we'll keep going, but you're welcome to join us, as long as you're staying."

"So I can't be like you?" Alfred muttered.

"Drop it," Gilbert snapped. "That way I won't bring up your fuck ups, alright?"

"We should keep going," Alfred sighed, standing up. He didn't even have a single gun on him and he had to wonder if Gilbert had managed to sneak one on him. He wasn't really keen on getting caught without any way to defend himself. Nor was he keen on seeing Matthew again, especially considering his recent, stupid decision.

"Think you can keep going?" Gilbert asked.

"I'll be fine," Alfred muttered. He just had to turn off his emotions. He'd been able to do it before, every time he killed someone or saw them get killed. Now he just had to switch them off and hope they wouldn't turn back on.

* * *

Matthew couldn't bring himself to move, honestly. He had just looked at Gilbert…he knew he should have suspected something, done something when he saw the man's face after looking at the corpse. He knew something was wrong…he knew it! Gilbert recognized the corpse, that was all there was to it. He hadn't seen any of the pictures Alfred had made of the people in the revolutionary team. If he recognized the corpse, that must have meant…something, Matthew wasn't sure.

Gilbert had ran, but Matthew couldn't get himself to run after him. He was also able to see the person moving above him, in the trees. The person the corpse had been talking to. Matthew recognized him clearly, the way he snuck and moved, and the way he looked. Alfred.

Matthew was frozen in place for a short while, not sure about what he was supposed to do. Alfred had been talking to the man…Feliciano. And he ran after Gilbert. He had no idea how long he just stood there, but he eventually took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. He lifted his gun and, for a moment and pointed it at the corpse beside him. His hand trembled as he pointed it, but he eventually turned to the nearest tree and fired shot after shot after shot, until he ran out of bullets. He dropped the gun easily before pulling out the other one he had hidden, firing more shots at the same tree. Even after he had ran out of bullets, he kept trying to fire, hitting the trigger more and more violently as he kept trying to shoot. He ignored the fact that tears were pooling in his eyes as he finally dropped the second gun and pulled out his knife.

He let out some kind of strangled, angry noise as he stabbed into the tree violently. He knew he should have followed them, but this was all his body could think to do. He pulled the knife out of the tree and stabbed it back in. He grew more and more feverish as he continued, moving to slashing the tree eventually, as that was faster. Alfred left with Gilbert? Why? What purpose did that serve? Alfred would have told him if he was going to follow them or something else so…so what did that mean?

Matthew panted as he finally dropped the knife, staring at the carnage of the tree in front of him. He could feel his hands trembling as he tried to think clearly. He would have to tell the king about this. Where would they have gone? He had to give some kind of guess…What was he going to do? He was…he was alone now.

* * *

**Much emotional chapter, mans, sorry 'bout that. But I am very happy with how it turned out, not gonna lie. Feliciano is, sadly, dead, by Matthew's hand, and Gilbert has officially revealed the fact that he is a part of the revolutionary team, but I've been dropping a lot of hints about that so it shouldn't be a massive surprise. What should be the surprise is Alfred's split-second decision. I'm really excited for what's coming next!**

**Please review!**


	13. Swing Life Away

Chapter 13. Swing Life Away.

Gilbert was tempted to slam his head into the nearest wall to him, but he wasn't sure if he had the effort in him anymore. They'd been walking for days and finally made it to the capital, which just made Alfred worse beside him. He'd moan in his light sleep, he'd mutter things under his breath, he honestly looked like shit. Gilbert was sure he didn't look much better off. No matter how many times he sighed or tried to sleep it off…he couldn't forget what he had seen in that forest. He'd known Feliciano for years…he was the brightest, happiest guy he'd ever known, no matter his circumstances, it was no wonder his brother fought so hard for him. Everyone had a connection with him. Everyone. And now…Gilbert had to go back and tell them all that Matthew had done it.

Matthew didn't even care. It was just another head to drop, it didn't matter. But even Alfred was affected slightly by it. He'd only known Feliciano for a few days and he was reacting to it. It was bullshit. Gilbert tightened his hands into fists hard enough to break the skin with his nails, but he didn't care. Alfred was shivering behind them as they made their way through the capital in the middle of the night. Not many soldiers were out, attempting to enforce the strict curfew for all citizens, but they still had to avoid those that came out, especially those that would recognize them. It couldn't be known that they were in the capital, of all places.

"Almost there," Gilbert muttered. He had to keep his voice low, otherwise it would crack. It had happened many times before. He couldn't afford to slip up like that again.

"Why are you in the capital?" Alfred hissed at him. He was on edge, incredibly so. He was close to the king again, but this time he was against him. No…he wasn't against the king, Gilbert knew better than that. But he had decided to switch sides, for whatever reason. They could ask him about that once he got over the initial shock of betraying the man he'd known his whole life.

"Ask our idiot leader," Gilbert shook his head. They stopped where the small alleyway stopped and Gilbert glanced around carefully. No soldiers. There were even two teenagers smoking just a far distance away. They'd be caught before Gilbert and Alfred. There was no way they'd outrun the soldiers, that would be fun to watch. In any case, Gilbert shook his head and ducked out, turning sharply and running up to the building marked with a familiar number. Arthur had told it to him just in case he had to run for it. He knew all of their changes of address. He'd been able to talk to them on very short, rare occasions, giving them as much information as he could, storing the rest into his head. This was a suicide mission from the start, but he was thankful he was coming back alive. Gilbert just wished Feliciano had that chance.

Gilbert knocked on the door three times with his foot, only loud enough for those inside to hear it, not those closely next door. He glanced back at Alfred, who stared at the door in pure terror. It wasn't quite too late yet and Gilbert knew that. The whole trip back to the capital, he had been afraid that Alfred would switch sides again, but it didn't seem like he was about to. Once that door opened and he walked through the threshold, there was no going back. Alfred was trembling and, if Gilbert looked closely, he was near tears, something Gilbert had never seen before. He'd barely seen it from Matthew.

It was Arthur who opened the door, he looked slightly disheveled, as if he had just woken up, either that or he hadn't slept in days. He glanced at the two with slight confusion.

"It's one hell of a story," Gilbert muttered. "Let us in quick, he's safe."

Arthur nodded carefully, eyeing Alfred as the two walked into the door. Alfred visibly stiffened as the door closed behind him. He was very visibly shaking now.

"What the hell did you two get yourselves into?" Arthur snapped.

"Long story short, I blew my cover," Gilbert said. "And Mr. Loyal broke his ties to the king."

Gilbert had barely gotten the last word out before Alfred let out the first emotion Gilbert had really seen. It was a choked sob from the back of his throat and Gilbert went quiet, looking back at the man in shock. Alfred seemed to be in shock, but the tears came quickly. Apparently without thinking, Alfred latched onto Arthur, and this time didn't hold anything back. Everyone in the little house would hear him. Arthur seemed frightened at first, before he realized just what Alfred was doing, carefully bringing a hand up to pat the slightly larger man's back. This was final. Alfred was officially leaving the king's side and he was fully realizing just what that meant.

"Where is Feliciano?" Arthur asked carefully and Gilbert flinched. By now, the rest of the team was in the main room, where the front door opened to. "We lost contact with him a few days ago."

"Feli's dead," Gilbert muttered. He didn't look away from Arthur. He couldn't. Even Arthur had his eyes wide in shock and surprise. The only sound in the little house was Alfred's continued sobs. He wasn't even aware of the world around him, just the world crashing inside of his own head.

"You fucker!" Lovino snapped, the first to speak. "Who the fuck killed him?"

"Alfred's brother," Gilbert said simply. Even Lovino sounded like he was in tears. This was bad. "That's why I broke my cover…I…I couldn't stay after I…after I saw him…I wouldn't have been able to fake ignorance."

"You couldn't…" Antonio tried to speak up, but stopped shortly after. Alfred's voice cracked. "You couldn't get his body?"

"I'm sure the king's got that covered," Gilbert all but spat.

"I'll be right back," Arthur sighed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, before he swiftly guided Alfred to some other part of the house, forcefully at that. Alfred didn't even seem to care about the treatment, following him, almost mindlessly. The room was painfully quiet for the minute he was gone before he came back. "We'll be moving soon, now would be the best time for you to give us all of the information you have."

"That's it? " Lovino snapped, storming across the room to glare at Arthur, who gave him a half-hearted gaze back. "That's fucking it? They come back, that fucker says he's changed his mind, and you let them back? My brother's fucking dead now!"

"Yes, and if you're not quiet, someone is going to notice something is wrong," Arthur said coldly. "If you would like to attract more attention and risk anymore lives, then I suggest you keep shouting. It's not helping anything. No matter how many times you curse, he will not come back. By all means, mourn, and take your anger out on me like you promised, but don't decide to take your anger out on anyone else. Now you can stay here and remain quiet, or you can return to your room and mourn as much as you please."

Lovino muttered something under his breath about bastards, slumping onto the couch with a heavy breath. Gilbert shivered slightly. He hadn't been back in quite a while, but he never expected to come back under these circumstances. Arthur motioned to the couches and Gilbert heard the others in the room move silently over to them. There were two, basically identical, gray couches. No one dared turn on the lights, or risk the wrath of the soldiers patrolling the streets. Gilbert slumped onto the couch beside his brother, Ludwig, sighing deeply.

"First, I'm going to make this clear," Gilbert said after a long stretch of silence. "Do not, by any means, underestimate Alfred's connection to the king. Because I will tell you right now that he is still loyal to that bastard. If he had some way to get into Alfred's head right now and tell him to kill us all, Alfred wouldn't hesitate. He sided with us for…whatever reason. I guarantee you it's for real, he doesn't know how to fake those kinds of emotions. But don't think for one second that he wouldn't die for the king."

"That is something we will have to take into consideration," Arthur said carefully. Looking around the room, it was obvious that no one had gotten over the news. Gilbert said it bluntly to avoid any questions about it. There was no doubt. Feliciano was dead, shot straight through the head, he wasn't even twitching. No more breathing. Matthew had definitely killed him. "In any case, you have valuable information on their group. While we have this time, tell us everything important. You can start with who will be in command of the group now."

"Yeah," Gilbert swallowed thickly. Matthew was going to be in charge next, there was no doubt. As much as Gilbert wanted to hate the man for shooting someone that he cared so much about…he couldn't. He couldn't find the feeling swirling inside of him. Yes, there was irritation, yes there was a huge amount of sorrow, but there was no anger. And, yet, here he was, doing what he came there to do originally, betray the man that he'd grown to care about so much… "His name…" Gilbert hesitated slightly. Dammit… "His name's Matthew."

* * *

This was utterly humiliating. Matthew marched through the main building of the capital, alone, his head held high. He reached the doors and hesitated. He had to bring bad news to Ivan. Not only was the mission completely unsuccessful, ruined by a simple mistake, but Alfred and Gilbert had betrayed them. All he had with him was the body of a revolutionary. It was useless. The soldiers opened the doors for him when he finally nodded and he walked in carefully, kneeling before Ivan's throne as he did so. The king had no information of what happened during the mission, aside from possibly the mistake of Alfred getting arrested. Matthew clenched his hands into fists.

"Matthew, you are alone?" Ivan asked, extremely concerned for the welfare of Alfred, the man who had the audacity to betray the man before him. The man that had given them everything.

"I am terribly sorry, Your Majesty, we have failed in the mission you sent us on," Matthew said, his head bowed. "Not only were we unable to obtain information, but, after my shooting of a revolutionary, the two with me, Gilbert and Alfred…ran. I have not seen or heard from either since the betrayal…" Matthew's voice broke in that moment and he took a moment to calm himself before he continued. "Words cannot describe my failure, Your Majesty, and I can only hope you will allow yourself to forgive me."

"Matthew."

Matthew jumped at how close the voice was to him. He looked up in his surprise and was shocked to see that the king was kneeling in front of him, at eye level with him. He made eye contact and Matthew nearly burst into tears in that moment.

"This is not your fault," Ivan said carefully. "I am sorry for your loss, if there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask."

Matthew felt a temporary loss of all control and he lurched forward, clinging to the king in front of him tightly as he tried to fight the tears that continuously slipped past his guard. Ivan easily hugged him back delicately as Matthew continued. They stayed as they were for who knew how long as Matthew allowed his emotions to slip once again, all due to Alfred. Alfred had betrayed him, Gilbert had betrayed him…he couldn't…there were no words. There was nothing he could do, he was so useless!

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," Matthew said, eventually separating himself and collecting himself enough to carry on. Ivan nodded to him and carefully stood, only following when Matthew stood as well.

"Are you quite sure it was a betrayal?" Ivan asked.

"Yes," Matthew nodded. "As far as Gilbert is concerned, his face of recognition of the man I shot was enough to convict him. Alfred followed him and has not returned, nor have I received any form of message from him to alert me of any kind of plan. Your Majesty, they have both turned against the crown, it is necessary that they are considered criminals from this moment onwards."

"I understand," Ivan nodded. "For now, return home, I will give you information in the near future. I would recommend you be ready to search for your brother soon."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Matthew bowed to the man before turning to the door. He paused after a short moment. "Should I come in contact with either of them, do I have permission to kill them?"

"Only if you believe you can pull the trigger," Ivan said. "Though I only give you this permission, not the others. And I would prefer for Alfred to come back alive."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Matthew nodded, leaving out the door. He walked through the hallways with more assurance, leaving the building without looking at a single person. Within minutes, he had returned home for the first time. Elizabeta was the first to greet him, calling to him from the kitchen, but Matthew ignored her.

Instead, he turned to go into the room he used to share with Alfred, roughly pulling on the bed, hitting it harshly when it struggled to move. His anger was returning to him, this wasn't good. He knew he couldn't stand to be in the room Alfred had stayed and he knew he wouldn't even look at Gilbert's room again. How long were they planning this? Planning to betray them? Surely quite some time, considering how easy it was for the two of them.

"Where are Alfred and Gilbert?" Elizabeta asked carefully as Matthew pushed the bed through the door of his old room, fueled mostly by rage. The other door opened for him as he ignored her, shoving the bed in as forcefully as he could. The door skidded a few feet in front of him and the door closed behind him.

Obviously, neither his brother or Gilbert cared, about any of them. About Matthew. If he saw either of them, he would kill them himself, he was sure of it. Just thinking about them, Matthew kicked at the bed, letting out a small, angry cry. He was shaking, he knew that much. But he refused to cry. He couldn't shed any more tears over the two traitors. He took a deep breath. He could handle this, he had to. He was the new leader of the group now.

All he had to do was flip the switch on his emotions. Just turn them off.

* * *

**I'll let you skip the part where Gilbert gives out all of the information you already know. Trust me, you all already know all of the information he's going to give you. And, if you ask me, Alfred and Matthew are both very bad at switching off their emotions like proper assassins, which is what makes them so good in my eyes. Anyway, now Matthew is sure that Alfred and Gilbert have betrayed him and the king, so he's a very angry child. It should also be noted that Yong Soo gave Alfred his information before he could give it to Matthew, so he doesn't know what Alfred does. Ivan, on the other hand, doesn't seem so stressed out. At least on the surface. Arthur, also, doesn't seem so freaked out, but he's a little more obvious about his real emotions. In any case, more action scenes to come up soon, so look forward to that!**

**Please review!**


	14. Alone Together

Chapter 14. Alone Together.

The night, for Alfred, was rough and restless. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of his brother, of Ivan, of all of the others he left behind because of some stupid decision. He was inundated with thoughts of 'what ifs'; what if he had told Matthew about Gilbert, what if he had stayed with Matthew, what if he had killed Feliciano himself. But this was the current present he was living in now. It didn't matter…all of the choices he could have made. All that mattered was the fact that he had chosen his path and he couldn't turn back now. Matthew wouldn't take him back…and the king certainly would never take back a traitor like him.

Alfred could hear the sound of talking, of shouting…through the door. He couldn't hear the words, but he could hear the emotion, what he couldn't feel. He could hear the voices crack, he could hear the stomping feet, the long stretches of pained silence. He had felt…something at the sight of Feliciano's loss, but nothing like that. His heart had faltered…for perhaps a second. Past that, however, there was nothing. There was no sorrow or guilt. He was just another face that he had already memorized.

Silence stretched as long as the terribly long night after they had fallen asleep. They…The team he was now a part of…Was he really a part of it, though? He had seen the way they acted around each other. The way they would laugh and treat each other like a family. Feliciano would make them smile, make them laugh. Antonio and Ludwig would tolerate Lovino's constant anger. Arthur would attempt to keep Francis in line. They were…happy. Even when Alfred compared it to his former group…they weren't anything like that. Yes, they laughed and they joked, but Gilbert was most of the life…and he wasn't even a part of the team, was he? The most emotion Alfred had felt was how much he cared for his brother.

Not like that mattered now…

Alfred fell in and out of sleep for quite some time, never falling deep enough to actually call it sleep. After a few hours, when he heard people walking around again, but not talking, he decided to do something. He couldn't sit around and be useless for this long, after all. If he was to really be a part of this new team, he would have to find some way to prove himself. He could no longer be loyal to his old team, he had to find some way to convince himself of being loyal to this one.

He walked slowly and carefully out of the room, so as not to put any of the other people in the small house on edge. It was lit as lightly as any other house in the capital, with the cold steel walls and hardly any windows, cold, unfeeling lights staring down at them. He walked by an open door only to see Ludwig placing equipment into a bag, mostly weapons. Ludwig had seen him and only so much as glanced in his direction, choosing to ignore him for the time being. At least he wasn't seen as a threat…

Alfred continued until he reached the living room that he had only barely seen the night before. He clenched his jaw when he noticed himself trembling slightly, recalling the events before. He couldn't allow himself to be that weak again, especially in front of someone who used to be the enemy. Once he entered the living room, he found Arthur alone, sitting on the couch and working on a small laptop. Arthur noticed him immediately when he walked into the room, but chose to be quiet, at least for a small while. Alfred wasn't sure what to say in this kind of situation at all…

"I see you didn't sleep much last night," Arthur spoke first, not looking up from his work on his computer.

"No," Alfred said bluntly. That part was obvious, so why did Arthur have to pay such close attention to it?

"I'm not about to ask any of your reasons," Arthur sighed, closing the laptop and looking up at Alfred. That was when Alfred noticed, on the cheek he hadn't seen before, that there was an angry bruise. It was haphazardly covered and it seemed as though Arthur wasn't paying much attention to it, despite the fact that Alfred could tell that it definitely would hurt, even him. "Though I do expect to have some eventually. Though I can tell that you aren't bluffing, so I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. We're leaving today now that we aren't waiting for anyone else. It's not safe here for any length of time. If you want to make yourself useful, help Antonio. He'll be just down the other hallway, I'm sure his door will be open. He's least likely to attempt anything to you after what happened."

"You have a bruise," Alfred said simply. "It wasn't there last night." Arthur looked directly into his eyes.

"As I said, Antonio is the least likely to try anything," Arthur said, standing up and cricking his neck as if nothing had happened. "My best suggestion for you is to not go near Lovino. He's become rather unpredictable."

"He hit you." It wasn't a question. Alfred's only question was why…Why did Lovino hit Arthur about Feliciano when the best person for him to hit in his anger would have been Alfred?

"This is nothing," Arthur said, walking in the direction of the hallway Alfred had just come from. "I'm used to worse. I will be with Francis, if you have any other questions." Alfred noticed a small change in Arthur's eyes as he talked about the wound, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"Tell Lovino to hit the person responsible next time," Alfred stated. "The outcome is a lot more satisfying."

"I'll be sure to tell him that," Arthur said, a small smile tugging on his lips. He disappeared into a door down the hallway and Alfred walked quickly to where he was told to go. He was sure that Arthur had already insinuated to Antonio that, if Alfred had woken up, he would have gone there. He wasn't going to be a burden, he refused. He was more capable than to just be useless, no matter the situation at hand.

Sure enough, the door was open, and Alfred could see Antonio with his own bag, already with equipment stuffed inside of it. Technology, ammo, weapons. Currently, however, he was positioned in front of one of the few windows, the blinds covering most of the light. He was looking through his sniper rifle, staring into the street intently. He moved minutely, informing Alfred that he was aware of his presence, but he was focusing. Alfred stood still in the doorway for a while, almost curious about what the man was doing with his gun, acting like that in the middle of the capital.

Finally, Antonio let out a small laugh, relaxing his stance and looking back at Alfred.

"Damn soldier wouldn't go away," Antonio chuckled slightly and Alfred nodded numbly. "So you're finally up, huh? Arthur told me he'd send you my way." Thought he was smiling, Alfred noticed that it was definitely different, it faltered slightly. Alfred was almost curious about what those feelings he should have been feeling were like. "Gotta say, I don't really need any help, I guess he just figured I'm the safest to be with. I'm sure if he could've put you with Ludwig, but he's a little pissed, too, huh? I'm one of the least likely people Lovino will be around anyway."

So they really were trying to keep him away from Lovino…It made sense, but it was almost annoying. "So what do you need me to do, then?"

"I've got some other stuff I need to go and get from around the house," Antonio shrugged. "I guess just keep acting as scout while I'm gone. No one should suspect anything, but we can't have soldiers knocking on the door. Especially after you went back, all of our names and faces have been pretty well known."

"Right," Alfred nodded as Antonio left, his smile falling to a frown the second he left the room. Alfred slumped slightly. This was definitely a different air than before. Just how important was Feliciano to everyone in the group? Alfred walked up to the desk that the rifle was sitting on and looked out the window. The streets were empty of people or life, a stark difference from the country he had recently been in. There was no soldier in sight, but Alfred could see the main street just a short distance away. That probably held the most people he could see. Most people living in the surrounding houses would have to be working at this time of the day.

Alfred was only alone for about five minutes before Antonio came back.

"It's quiet, huh?" Antonio smiled that fake smile once again at him and Alfred nodded as he stored more equipment into the bag, humming a light tune as he went. Alfred continued to look out of the window, into the familiar gray city. It was rare for a house to have windows, though they had apparently managed to pull a few strings to get this spot. Alfred could clearly see the largest building in the capital from his position. It was so close…it almost put Alfred on edge. "Get ready," Antonio said simply as he picked up his rifle and began to disassemble it. Alfred guessed that, whatever Arthur had planned, they wouldn't need a sniper for it. "Oh, yeah, Arthur said that I should give you a gun, you alright with a pistol? We're a little low on supplies at the moment, couldn't bring a lot this close, you know how it is."

"A pistol's fine," Alfred nodded and Antonio nodded right back. He continued to hum the little tune as he quickly packed his gun into a surprisingly small case, putting it into the bag. He rummaged in it for a short while before producing a pistol. He checked to make sure it had all six bullets it could hold, and then tossed it to Alfred, who caught it easily. At least now he had a real weapon he could use.

"Oi! Antonio! Are you quite ready yet?" Arthur snapped from the living room.

"Don't be so impatient!" Antonio called back with a small, fake laugh. He closed up the bag, which he could easily carry on his back and left the room. Alfred followed after him and he could see the entirety of the revolutionary group assembled in the living room. All of them had a bag slung on their backs, though Alfred noticed that Lovino was holding two.

Immediately after Lovino noticed him, he marched over to him and dropped the bag, leaving Alfred to catch it.

"That's the share Feliciano used to carry," Lovino said gruffly. It was obvious he was holding back his anger. "You can at least pull some weight now." With that he swiftly turned on his heel and stood on his own, near the back of the group. Alfred sighed and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Is everyone ready, then?" Arthur asked from the door, where he stood beside Gilbert, who seemed to refuse to look in Alfred's direction. No one made any sound to say otherwise.

"Awesome," Gilbert nodded with a grin. "I'll head out for distraction, then. See all you losers at the new place!" With that, Gilbert happily left the house, pistol obviously in hand. He was going to do something stupid, wasn't he? Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Alfred, stay close to me, you're the only one that I wasn't able to tell the location of our new hideout," Arthur said simply. "Everyone, try to stay together, but if we get separated, keep going, don't wait for anyone."

"I'm tired of waiting, can we just fucking move?" Lovino snapped. Arthur sighed and opened the door, moving out of the way for the others to move out first. He nodded his head to the door to motion for Alfred when he was the last and he quickly moved as well. He could already hear the soldiers moving and Gilbert laughing happily as he ran away from them. Alfred turned to follow where the others were moving. They ran until they reached a point where the shadows could easily hide them. Alfred knew this part well. Moving without having people see you while reaching a destination was at least something he was familiar with.

"Best keep up," Arthur smirked simply, easily jogging past him, his footsteps quiet as he went ahead of Alfred and around a corner. Alfred raised an eyebrow. Was he trying to race him? During a stealth mission? Alfred snorted slightly, but started moving a little faster, ducking between the shadows, feeling the most at home he had been in quite some time.

* * *

Matthew slumped into his seat at the table. He was still a little tired from the mission he had been on earlier that day. He had gone alone, despite the king suggesting that he take another person with him. It was a perfect way to let off some steam now that he didn't have someone to spar with anymore.

"I'm a little worried about you," Elizabeta said, sitting down carefully beside him. Roderich was cooking with Kiku, neither of them saying much, aside from what was necessary to work together. "This was the second mission you went on alone since you got back, isn't it? That's not a very long time."

"I'll do whatever the king needs me to," Matthew muttered, looking at the table and not at any of the others in the room.

"But you don't need to alone," Elizabeta pressed. "I understand how you must feel, but-"

"You don't understand," Matthew shook his head.

"They were our friends, too," Elizabeta said seriously.

"And they were more than friends to me," Matthew stated, looking her in the eyes now. "Stop trying to make me feel better, I'm fine."

"I say we set this quarrel aside for now," Kiku sighed, standing beside the table to set down one of the dishes he had made. "There is no better healer than time for cases like this." Matthew huffed slightly from where he sat, staring at the food. He was far from hungry, but he knew that it was a horrible idea to skip any kind of meal. Roderich brought over more food, placing it carefully before sitting down beside Elizabeta. Kiku sat on the other side of the table. It was silent at first as they ate. "Matthew, if you would not mind, I would like to go with you on the next mission."

"Fine," Matthew nodded. He would have preferred to go alone again. It was fine when he was alone if he let his emotions get the better of him occasionally. There were a few times he had gone overboard, but it was fine if they were an enemy of the king. With Kiku there, he would have to be much more careful. "Will all of you stop being so concerned for me, I'm fine, for the last time."

"Of course," Roderich nodded in agreement with him. "I would love to have a chance to cook with you again in the near future. I'm afraid it's been rather lonely without you. As good of company as Kiku is, your cooking is unparalleled."

"I think that'd be a good idea," Matthew relaxed slightly with a small smile. Cooking would also be a welcome distraction for him…It wasn't a bad idea… "Maybe tomorrow morning we can make pancakes, alright?"

"That would be fantastic!" Elizabeta smiled. "You haven't made pancakes in weeks!"

Matthew smiled back, taking a small bite of the food in front of him. He looked at the two empty places at the table and let out a small sigh, looking at his food. It was hard to get used to how quiet it was now without Alfred or Gilbert here. But he couldn't feel bad just because they were gone. They weren't worthy of the feeling. They had both betrayed the king and him…He couldn't forgive them. He just hoped they could find them soon and then Matthew could get the closure he properly needed with those two.

* * *

**I'm so sorry I'm so late guys! I went to go look at a college and I thought I had more time to put this stuff up than I did...But, don't worry, I'll make it up to you guys by updating again tomorrow! I have spring break and plenty of time! And then everything will be back to normal starting next weekend!**

**Anyway small glimpse at how Matthew's doing there at the bottom. You guys have no idea how rough of a time I had with this chapter, which is mostly filler and I'm sorry…But we do see how Arthur's group is dealing with the recent loss. A lot of sad chapters right after each other, huh? I'm sorry for all of the depression, hopefully next chapter might brighten up a little bit, eh? I just had major writer's block because I had nothing planned between Alfred joining the group and the next plot point. I'm sorry about that, but we'll get on track again soon, I promise you!**

**So please review! It's totally awesome!**


	15. Human

Chapter 15. Human.

They were close to the forest. It hadn't taken a very long time to get there. They had gotten separated after a while and Alfred stuck close to Arthur, who, evidently, wasn't quite in the mood for conversation at the moment. They were both silent the entirety of the way to their "new headquarters." Alfred's thoughts were left to wander every time they weren't around a soldier that could notice and recognize them at any moment. They still hadn't reached the new headquarters, simply walking a few rows of buildings from the forest in silence with Arthur. But he couldn't just let his thoughts wander for too long, it had been far too quiet for far too long.

"So, I have a question for you," Alfred said simply. It had been quiet for some time and there didn't seem to be any chance of them running into a soldier soon.

"I might have an answer," Arthur responded simply. "Depends what you're asking."

"You never existed," Alfred said. "Everyone else in your group, they existed and then just disappeared off the map. The people in my old group…they had all of their data erased by the king, but a little trail is still there. But then there's you. You don't have anything on you. It's like you don't exist."

"That's not quite a question," Arthur smirked, but continued before Alfred could try again. "You're in the same boat, as far as I know. It's not like you even have a last name to go off of."

"Yes, but, as you said, Arthur Kirkland never existed," Alfred pressed.

"Whoever was searching for me, they just looked in the wrong place," Arthur said simply, with a small shrug. His steps became a little more stiff, but other than that, he didn't seem to change that much. It was subtle, but Alfred could tell that their conversation was dangerously close to something he shouldn't go near.

"Then where should we have looked?" Alfred asked. "We looked through a database only the king should have access to. We should have been able to see all of the people that ever existed in the country."

"Ah, then that was where you messed up," Arthur smiled softly. He was quiet for a moment. "If your curiosity truly gets the best of you, just the last name Kirkland should be enough to churn up some interesting results for you. But I doubt you'll ever find me unless you know what to look for."

"And you don't want me to know what to look for?" Alfred asked.

"Not quite yet," Arthur hummed. "I would quite like for you to have some respect for me for a short while before you find everything out."

"What does my respect have anything to do with it?" Alfred asked. This didn't make any sense, it just seemed like Arthur was full of riddles now and he didn't really understand.

"There's no respect to be held for what I was," Arthur muttered, almost darkly, but he still kept a light air about him. "Arthur was…hardly considered anything worthwhile. Arthur Kirkland hardly anything better. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

Alfred nodded numbly. Arthur was confusing, to say the least. But it was interesting. What kind of secret was he hiding? He was quite good at it if he wasn't even a part of the king's database of people. Then again, Arthur had said that Elizabeta had just looked in the wrong place…Alfred would have to remember to take some time to look up just the name Kirkland and see what information he could find.

Finally, they walked up to a house that looked similar to all of the rest, but the door was completely open and stuck that way, obviously someone had made it that way. He could hear Gilbert's laughter from the inside and he couldn't stop the small smile that appeared on his face. Why did he smile? Was it because they were starting to return to normal? Why would that make him happy?

"What the hell has he gotten into now?" Arthur muttered, shaking his head. "He's only been back for a day, for crying out loud." Alfred simply followed him as he walked towards the house. A few people were out and about in the town and Alfred figured it was another one filled with revolutionaries, as no one seemed to mind, simply laughing it off as they continued on their way. The house was similar to all others in the capital, with the living room in the middle and two hallways with rooms to the right and left.

Alfred had only just walked into the building when Gilbert ran past him, from the left hallway all the way into the right, slamming a door shut. Ludwig sighed heavily behind him, walking after him, in the process, fixing his obviously mussed up hair. That must have been Gilbert's doing.

"Come on, you're so slow, loser!" Gilbert cackled, opening the door just enough for his head to stick out. Ludwig raised an eyebrow at him, but continued to move slowly.

"Give it back, Gilbert," Ludwig said impatiently and Gilbert just scoffed before disappearing back into the door.

"What did he take from you this time?" Arthur asked offhandedly. Alfred had almost forgotten that Gilbert had been with this group before going to Alfred's group to spy. He had to wonder how long ago that must have been. He would have to ask Gilbert about that later.

"A shoe," Ludwig sighed, continuing on his way. Arthur smirked slightly before he continued himself, setting his bag down on the main couch.

"A shoe?" Alfred asked in confusion.

"OCD," Arthur said simply, as if that was the perfect and only explanation necessary. There was more cackling and running as Ludwig reached the door, but it seemed like Ludwig was prepared this time and caught Gilbert easily.

"Your bag is going to contain the necessary medical supplies we need in case anyone is seriously injured. When you find the kitchen, put it in there. Find a room no one else has occupied yet and you can stay there. I'll tell you if I need you for anything if it comes up."

"At least it's a system I'm familiar with," Alfred shrugged, moving past the living room and into where the kitchen would normally be in a room like this. Sure enough, he was right. Francis was already in there, appearing to see what supplies he had to work with in this new place. He almost reminded Alfred of Matthew in the kitchen. Alfred shook his head at the thought. No point in thinking about that now.

Francis noticed him as Alfred set the bag down, assuming he could place the supplies in one of the lower cabinets by the floor. He relaxed quickly after that, apparently growing used to the light of Alfred's face.

"I see you and Arthur have made it," Francis said, though he was obviously still very on edge around Alfred. He had no doubt that he had managed to get his hands on another computer device. If he had been a noble in the past, he was sure to still have the money, as he had no living relatives. "Anything interesting on the way over?"

"What do you know about Arthur's past?" Alfred decided to risk it and see if he could get any information out of someone else, other than Arthur. His curiosity was getting the best of him. Alfred, at least, had reason for not existing. There was no reason for him to exist. He had just been a baby when Ivan had found him. No parents, no limbs, just a brother. But Arthur? What happened?

"So he's refusing to tell you as well," Francis smirked, a little more relaxed now that he seemed to have the upper hand in this conversation, at the very least. "He only told me after knowing me for a few years. It's not my story to tell, though he does like to give riddles about it. It must be some way for him to deal with it."

"Deal with what?" Alfred asked.

"I will just say that it is something his pride now would never allow him to sit down and take," Francis smirked slightly. He glanced at the bag Alfred had set down. "Feel free to put those under the sink. They're the medical supplies, right?"

"Yeah," Alfred nodded. He was tired of all of these riddles and roundabout answers, but it didn't seem like he was going to get anything anytime soon… He quickly did as he was told, assembling them in order of what he viewed as important. If anyone were to be injured, he could guess what would happen and what they would need. He was quite used to that sort of thing, at the very least.

"So, did anything…interesting happen on the way here?" Francis asked simply.

"Nothing out of the usual," Alfred said. He didn't know what Francis was insinuating, but Alfred could guess that he was intending to mean something.

"Oi! Francis!" Arthur snapped from the living room. Francis chuckled simply from where he stood as Alfred returned to a standing position. He figured he would just take the bag to where he would be sleeping. "Don't start with him, too!"

"Why, I don't know what you mean," Francis chuckled innocently, walking towards the living room.

"I hope you don't plan on doing anything in that kitchen tonight," Arthur simple said, the smirk evident in his voice. "I have something for you, Alfred, Antonio, and Gilbert to do later tonight."

"What?" Gilbert snapped. "Why me? I literally just got back! Gimme some rest, ya jackass!"

"Why us three?" Antonio wondered from another part of the house. "I thought you didn't like us working together."

"I have my reasons," Arthur hummed. "You'll need to move in a few hours. Evidently, a small inexperienced revolutionary group is planning some kind of demonstration. If we know about it, I'm sure the king does as well."

That meant Matthew would be there. Definitely.

"What kind of demonstration?" Alfred asked. He had seen many demonstrations in the past. Generally, they involved killing some kind of political figure, but sometimes, it was just places to give speeches. Alfred had killed people from all kinds of demonstrations.

"You'll have to see that for yourself," Arthur smirked. "Francis, get your arse over here so I can tell you where you're going to have to be."

"Right," Francis sighed heavily, giving the stove a longing glance before going off. Alfred left the kitchen as well as he saw Francis look over Arthur's shoulder at his personal computer, pointing out the location of their mission. Alfred's first mission as a part of this team. Could he be considered a part of this team? What would this mission involve?

"Alfred," Arthur said suddenly as Alfred was about to search for a possible room. "You're not allowed to kill anyone on this mission. If it's necessary, allow one of the other three to do it."

"Why?" Alfred asked. "If I need to-"

"Trust me," Arthur said simply. "I have my reasons."

Alfred nodded, but he was unsure. He would still have a gun, just in case. That pistol Antonio gave him, but he was sure he wouldn't need it in the first place. If Matthew was going to be there, he would kill them himself. And if anyone else killed one of the demonstrators, he would be suspicious and search them out. They couldn't have that. Who knew what kind of state Matthew was in right now?

* * *

"If you don't mind me asking, why are we here so early?" Kiku asked from their position in an abandoned building. "The demonstration doesn't start for a few hours."

"Just wanted to stretch my legs," Matthew muttered, subconsciously checking through his guns again just to keep his hands busy. He had two knives hidden on him as well just in case. Their job was to put a stop to this demonstration if it was against the king. It most likely was, by the look of the painfully obvious pamphlets. Matthew had to wonder if that other team, the one Gilbert and Alfred were a part of, would be there. It was unlikely, what reason would they have?

"What will you do if you see them?" Kiku asked simply.

"They are enemies of the king now," Matthew said coldly and honestly. "I'll kill them. The king only gave me permission to do so. I need to be ready."

"Do you really want to kill them?" Kiku pressed and Matthew nearly glared at him. "I simply mean to say that they obviously mean a lot to you if they are causing such a reaction."

"They mean nothing to me now," Matthew muttered. "That's why I don't care if I kill them. They'll just enter the blur of faces I don't remember. Right with their friend that I killed."

"I am sorry you feel that way," Kiku sighed, glancing at the streets below them. Most people were working this time of day, though a few people moved about. A demonstration would be held at sundown, that was what the pamphlet said. Revolutionaries had something to say, apparently. But Matthew knew for sure that they had nothing to do with the group that had started this whole mess he was in.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Matthew stated.

"Indifference is a dangerous feeling," Kiku said simply. "It makes it impossible for you to feel. You are human, after all?"

"Never considered myself one," Matthew shook his head.

* * *

**That human thing will be important later, I swear it. And now Arthur has some sort of plan forming in his head, for whatever reason you don't know, but I do! Yay! How fun! Anyway, I was really tempted for Kiku to pull some Doctor Who up in there and talk about how if you hate someone, you're never truly finished with them, which is very true in this case. But I liked where I had him go better, if Imma be honest.**

**Anywho, enough of me talking. You got a few more clues for Arthur's backstory, how fun. So, please review! It's awesome!**


	16. Starlight

Chapter 16. Starlight.

"Oh, and you would never believe the two women Francis and I ran into a few months ago," Antonio laughed from where he lounged against a wall, as if there was no threat in the slightest. They had made it to the place of the demonstration early enough for no one to notice them enter the abandoned buildings around the small square. Already, night was falling around them and people were congregating, despite the risk. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis were lounging around, talking and catching up, as Gilbert had been away for years from his "best friends". Alfred scoffed from where he stood against the window, watching the evening progress.

"Are you talking about the one that spat when she talked and the one with the terrible smell?" Francis laughed even harder, especially when Antonio nodded in agreement.

"Holy shit, are you serious?" Gilbert cackled. He was on the ground, unlike the other two, legs crossed as he relaxed.

"Yeah, and they kept coming onto us, even when we dropped some pretty obvious hints," Antonio smirked. "They both thought Francis was the best thing in the world, but the girl with the smell decided she could settle for me."

"So did you?" Gilbert asked, obviously interested in such a trivial conversation.

Francis and Antonio were quiet for a while as they glanced at each other. It didn't take long for Gilbert to figure out what that meant as he burst into laughter once again.

"The speaker's in the square," Alfred muttered and the three turned their attention to him. Finally, they had stopped catching up and focused on the mission at hand. Alfred watched at the revolutionary man walked into the square and was surrounded by people that had heard of him before, loved his ideals. And the protestors, naturally.

"Toni," Gilbert said and Antonio nodded, going to his sniper rifle positioned on the ground and he began to look through the small hole they had managed to find in the dilapidated wall. He was searching for anyone in Alfred's old team that would be there and give any trouble.

"So, what are we doing with him?" Alfred asked.

"Watching," Francis shrugged, leaning against the open window, shattered glass long since cleaned out by the wind. "If we need to get rid of him, we will. For now, we're going to see if he's got the same ideals as us. He might be useful if we could rope him in."

"Not our group, of course," Gilbert smirked. "No way would Arthur accept anyone stupid enough to announce his presence to the king. But the main guys in charge of the revolutionary army might like him."

"How many are there of you in this army?" Alfred asked.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Gilbert laughed. "They're all mostly stationed in Markatus, Prulamuck, and Eltrack anyway. That's where it's safe. They're waiting out there for us to make our move from the inside. We're the scouting team, I guess."

"They really were going against the king?" Alfred muttered. He hadn't had the chance to properly check them out or anything.

"He got damn close to finding out, too," Gilbert shrugged. "Can't change anything now, can you?"

"Arthur will give them a signal when we are ready to move and take the crown from Ivan and," Francis continued for him, "after that, we will change the government for the better. The people really in charge are going to take over that part. That's not our expertise. We just kill people in the shadows."

"So all we do is try to obey orders?" Alfred asked coldly.

"You're the one that's shit at it," Gilbert said off-handedly. Alfred opened his mouth to retort, but Antonio was faster.

"Found them," Antonio said simply, tensing slightly from his position. He was ready to fire at any moment.

"Is Matthew there?" Gilbert asked. He asked before Alfred even had a chance to. He knew that it was likely the whole team knew about every single one of the members on Alfred's old team, if not from Alfred then from Gilbert.

"Yup," Antonio nodded minutely. "Kiku is with him, no one else, as far as I can tell."

"A job like this?" Alfred smirked slightly. "Should've only needed one person."

"He doesn't look like he normally does," Antonio shifted.

"What do you mean? "Gilbert asked.

"He's sluggish," Antonio reported, adjusting his scope minutely to get a better view. "He looks exhausted, he's in no shape to fight us should we engage." Alfred looked off in that direction, hoping to see his brother, though he knew he wouldn't get the chance. Why would he drive himself down like that? There were three others left on the team for crying out loud… He couldn't be allowing his emotions to get a hold of him like this. "And he's angry. I can tell by the way he's carrying himself."

"Shit," Gilbert muttered.

"The speaker is starting," Francis said, alerting everyone's attention to the matter at hand.

"Stay focused on Mattie," Alfred said. "We can watch the speaker." Antonio nodded just slightly, enough to tell Alfred that he heard him. Alfred looked to the speaker, who was talking animatedly about how it was the king's fault that they were in such slums and that the rest of the world was in such better shape. Surprisingly, no soldiers came, most likely because Matthew was there. The crowd seemed to like him well enough, though they were obviously hesitant to go against the king.

"He's getting ready to shoot," Antonio said.

Alfred looked to Gilbert and Francis, hoping that they would have some kind of idea in mind for what they were supposed to do. They had earpieces to talk to Arthur, at the very least. Well, at least Antonio and Francis did. Gilbert and Alfred didn't, probably due to the fact that they didn't have enough. Francis could at least ask Arthur, but he wasn't, he seemed very tense, looking at the speaker, deep in thought. Were they seriously thinking about keeping someone like him?

"He's popular," Francis finally muttered. "And his ideals are fairly closely aligned to ours." He sighed deeply. "Don't let him kill him."

"Roger that," Gilbert nodded with a slight smirk, but it fell when he looked in the direction of Matthew. "Don't kill him, alright Toni?"

"Then what do you propose I do to stop him?" Antonio asked impatiently. "I say we have less than a minute."

"Shoot right between him and Kiku," Alfred said. "He'll react, it means someone is watching him."

"Then get ready to move," Gilbert shook his head and Antonio nodded, his finger pressed lightly against the trigger. In just a few moments, he fired, jerked back just slightly from the force of the gun.

"Run," Antonio said simply, getting up and taking his gun with him. Immediately, quite a few shots fired into the little room that they were in and Alfred ducked down, quickly following the three as they darted down the dilapidated stairs and out onto the street, only to enter another building, this one definitely occupied by someone who wasn't there, but that didn't matter.

"So, what now?" Francis huffed as he slammed the door shut. The house was empty that was sure, but it didn't seem to be in much better shape than the one they had been in moments ago. The walls and ceiling were crumbling and the furniture looked like it was decaying.

"Formation A?" Gilbert proposed with a small smirk. Antonio and Francis glanced back at him with matching smiles.

"Formation A?" Alfred asked and the three looked towards him.

"We need a distraction," Gilbert said and pushed Alfred towards the windows that faced the square. There was no more firing, but the crowd was, at the very least, on edge. The speaker was trying to calm them down, obviously caring about their safety. Maybe he wasn't that bad of a guy…But…he was against the king…But so was Alfred… "Shoot where Matthew was, keep him distracted."

"And if he's already moved?" Alfred asked.

"He'll still shoot over here," Gilbert shrugged. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked.

"Just trust me, alright?" Gilbert smirked. "Keep the fire off of us, once we're gone, just go back to headquarters without being followed. I trust ya enough!" With a wink, he ran out the door with the other two and Alfred shook his head with a small sigh. The windows in front of him were weak and so, as he pulled out his pistol, he slammed the gun into the two windows that were right next to each other, pulling away as they shattered. He ducked underneath them as shots were fired into the room. Just as he expected. From where the bullets came from, Alfred could guess that Kiku and Matthew had separated and were firing from opposite ends of the square. He needed to distract both of them, and all he had was the six bullets in his gun and another clip to reload.

Alfred took a deep breath and pointed his gun in the direction of one of them, he couldn't tell who was where, and fired two shots before ducking down. Only two shots followed and he stood up again, pointed in the other direction, fired one shot, the pointed in the other direction and fired another. He ducked down as more shots hit him. That was four. Those three better be moving fast. Alfred aimed to his right once again and fired one more shot as he could see the three moving in the square. Antonio was on the far left of the square while Francis was on the far right, Gilbert running in the middle. Antonio and Francis were firing where Alfred had been, giving them cover, while Gilbert ran straight for the speaker.

That was when Alfred saw Matthew in the window, ducking to avoid a bullet. Alfred aimed carefully with his sixth bullet and shot, the bullet sliding right in front of Matthew's face. He ducked down again and breathed deeply, hoping his brother hadn't seen him. Kiku was the one that fired after that, just as Alfred was about to stand again, grazing his arm just barely with the bullet. Alfred winced from the impact as he ducked out of the house. Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio had managed to leave the square, taking the speaker with them.

* * *

Matthew panted from where he stood, staring at where the bullet had slammed into the wall. Dammit…Matthew knew it was Alfred…and the bastard had the gall to miss? No, he didn't miss, he did that on purpose. Alfred never missed. Matthew glanced back to the square left in chaos, where he'd seen Gilbert, but hadn't had the chance to fire a single shot at him. The speaker was gone, along with the other three from the revolutionaries.

"Dammit," Matthew muttered. Another failed mission. Why was he so useless? Surely, the king would say that it was alright, that Matthew shouldn't care so much…but it did matter, quite a lot. The king had trusted him with such a simple mission and he had failed him. Matthew slumped onto the ground, leaning heavily against the wall. He was in some person's house but he doubted they would return anytime soon, what with the chaos in the square below him.

"Matthew," Kiku muttered, entering the building. "Alfred ran, I could not see where."

"Doesn't matter," Matthew shook his head. He hadn't expected them to show up. They hadn't shown up on any of his missions. Why now? What were they up to? Why did they take that speaker, who talked about the king in such a way? Surely, he was evil if he could go on stage and attempt to brainwash the public into thinking that their current living conditions were the fault of the king. The king did his best with what he had, this was not his fault. It took time for conditions to improve.

"Do not be upset," Kiku said carefully. Matthew noticed in that moment that something wet was falling down his cheeks and he flinched, swiftly wiping away the moisture as he looked away from Kiku, who sat directly in front of him. "But also do not hold back your emotions, Matthew."

"Doesn't matter," Matthew repeated himself.

"It does," Kiku pressed. "You are not acting like your usual self because of this. You are angrier than usual, you were far too ready to enter into that gunfight."

"That means nothing," Matthew shook his head.

"Matthew, I want the best for you, you are my friend," Kiku said simply. "Pardon me if I seem rude in saying that you need to get your shit together. You shouldn't be emotionally compromised like this just because of two people you have already decided mean nothing to you when they obviously do. If you really want to get your revenge, do it properly. Fight properly and think about your actions."

"Kiku," Matthew muttered, looking up at his friend, who looked at him with a very intent expression. "I'm trying," Matthew admitted. "I just can't. You don't understand…"

"I know what they meant to you," Kiku nodded. "Nothing can replace a brother and I can tell that you cared a lot about Gilbert. I know you loved both of them because they are eliciting this kind of reaction. Use these emotions to fuel the proper reaction."

"And what's the proper reaction?" Matthew gave an exasperated sigh. He had tried to calm himself down, he had tried to let out his anger, he had tried to focus on the missions, he had tried to forget about them.

"Don't let them control you," Kiku said. "Don't let them consume your thoughts or your life. If you do, you will continue to fail and not produce the results you want. It's getting late. We should go back to the king."

"Right," Matthew nodded as he carefully steadied himself on his feet. The people had yet to calm down, some people happily taking advantage of the chaos to break a few laws. There were still no soldiers because Ivan had trusted Matthew and Kiku to keep it calm. "Wait."

"I was hoping you would say that," Kiku smiled.

"We can at least try to do something right," Matthew sighed. He pointed his gun at the crowd, finding one of the biggest trouble makers, who was trying to assault a random woman. Matthew fired.

* * *

**Phew, I'm so sorry for anyone that had to deal with this trainwreck this morning...jeez. First, I updated the wrong chapter by mistake and that was up for all of 10 minutes, but then I updated the unedited version of this one, which wasn't bad, but I was on a tight schedule in the morning and so I had to run off somewhere for a few hours, so this had to be up for a while. Everything is in order now, though, so thank you to the people that were patient and all that stuff...**

**Anyway, been a while since the last action scene, huh? Well, anyway, here we are! Alfred's seeming a lot less conflicted than Matthew, oddly enough. And Kiku got a wonderful, shining moment with a few words of advice. I love Kiku, I just never get him right and I'm hoping I finally did. My other main problem is that he, like, never gets a major roll, but now he does! Anywho, lots happened, and the speaker is an OC, so he's not extremely major to the plot, but there's a reason why they took him, somewhat for the sake of plot.**

**I'm talking way too much. Anyway! Please review! I'll see you all later!**


	17. Take Flight

Chapter 17. Take Flight.

Alfred jogged up to the house that was their headquarters, stopping just in front of Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis, who were busy laughing and congratulating themselves. They saw Alfred and smiled at him.

"Great job, Distraction!" Gilbert laughed happily. "Never had a more perfectly executed Formation A!"

"And it had been so long, I was worried you wouldn't have remembered!" Francis chuckled.

"Where is the speaker?" Alfred asked.

"Don't worry, Arthur's escorting him to a few people that will take him to Merkatus," Antonio smiled. "We should celebrate! That mission went so perfectly!"

"Ah, I should cook something!" Francis said happily, swiftly ducking inside of the house. Gilbert smirked, looking where he went, before glancing at Alfred.

"Come on, then, hero, let's get inside," Gilbert smirked and Alfred followed him and Antonio into the house.

"I'm no hero," Alfred muttered as he walked into the house. The three chatted excitedly, apparently choosing to ignore Alfred's statement in favor of discussing what Francis would be cooking. Ludwig and Lovino were nowhere to be seen, most likely tucked away into their rooms. Alfred chose to follow the three into the kitchen, as there was nothing better to do at that point aside from go into his own room. Francis was already rummaging through the cabinets and pulling out ingredients. It almost reminded Alfred of Matthew, but Francis seemed far more excited about it than Matthew ever was, humming a small tune to himself.

"That was pretty impressive, Distraction," Antonio chuckled, turning to Alfred, who blinked at the sudden attention. "And only six bullets, huh? You could've used more, you know."

"I'm not one to waste shots," Alfred said simply.

"This your first time not killing someone on a mission?" Gilbert asked casually.

"Yes," Alfred answered honestly. He even thought back to the first time he had gone on a mission for the king. He had been thirteen. He figured he could consider himself strange…He had killed someone and it didn't even matter to him. What had mattered was the praise he had gotten once he, Matthew, and Kiku had returned unscathed.

"Damn," Gilbert nodded thoughtfully. "It was a little weird for me, too. And I was only a part of your team for a year, huh?"

Alfred thought about that as well as he sat down at the simple dining table. Gilbert had only been a part of their team for a year. It had been years since they had someone else join and he hadn't thought anything about it. Because the king said so. And yet, in that year, he had managed to get so close to Matthew. And everyone else.

"Well, I say we stop thinking about the past and celebrate the present," Francis chimed in, breaking Alfred out of his thoughts. He was right, Alfred had already decided it was a bad idea to dwell on the past, he couldn't change his decisions after all. He hadn't eaten much recently and this would be a nice break. He was sure Francis was used to cooking a lot with a group like this, so that was good, at least. "We should have a big dinner to celebrate. And who knows, it might help a few others out of the past."

"Yeah, West is such a loser when he's mopey," Gilbert sighed dramatically. "And I'm fucking starving. We were out there forever!"

"You're so dramatic," Antonio laughed. "It was perhaps a few hours at most."

"Hours I could've spent doing something else!" Gilbert chimed.

"Like what?" Francis asked as he started pulling out bowls and preparing his food. They bickered like old friends, like Alfred assumed that they were. It was so different from his old team, who would just sit in wait for the next mission the king laid out for them. Here? They were laughing with each other, making jokes, acting like nothing bad had ever happened to any of them. But Alfred remembered what they had looked like just a day before. What had changed? Nothing…

"Do you understand why I sent you with them now?" Arthur asked simply behind him. Alfred glanced over at him. His face was slightly red from the cold outside and the bruise was still there, but he stood as he normally did, glancing at him from the side.

"Well, I know why you didn't send me with Ludwig or Lovino," Alfred sighed heavily. Arthur nodded towards the living room and Alfred followed him silently, leaving the three to joke loudly with each other in the next room. "It's because they work so well together. And how they work is…unconventional."

"How anyone acts in this line of work is unconventional," Arthur scoffed, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, yes. Your movements are rather stiff, rehearsed, if you will. They go by instinct and they're more than able to change a plan on the spot if they need to. I wanted you to have a…change of pace."

"Why?" Alfred asked.

"You need to learn how to work with an entirely new team," Arthur shrugged. "It stands to reason that you would need to learn quickly, but I'm sure it wasn't too difficult for you. You also need to learn how to work with different personalities than you are accustomed to. From what I understand, your old group was rather…toned down in comparison to this."

"The most lively one was Gilbert," Alfred said simply. It was just a fact.

"I understand Matthew was there?" Arthur asked simply.

"He was different," Alfred muttered. That was easy enough to tell, even from such a distance.

"Gilbert said that as well," Arthur nodded.

"It's our fault, I know that much," Alfred sighed heavily. "He's angry and I understand. If I was in his shoes, I'd feel the same way. We both betrayed the king and…"

"I will never ask something of you that you aren't capable of," Arthur said simply. "I'll never force you to make a decision you can't make. I can promise you that much. You do understand what this group intends to do, though, right?"

"You intend to take the king off his throne," Alfred said.

"By any means necessary," Arthur stated. "Knowing that, you are still willing to participate in this group?"

"I don't have much of a choice to turn back," Alfred chuckled humorlessly. "I can't go back. I've already betrayed him."

"And I'm not going to ask you to do much other than that," Arthur said. Alfred knew what that meant. If they were going to kill the king, Alfred would be far away. Who knew what Alfred might do if they point a gun to the king's head? There was a long pause between them. "I'm going to make sure they don't destroy anything. If you would like, my computer is at your disposal." He motioned to his personal computer, which sat open on the table in the living room. "Do what you want with it." With that, the man simply left Alfred alone in the room.

Alfred thought back to all of the questions that had risen in his head just a few hours beforehand. Arthur had said that they had looked in the wrong place for him, what could that even mean?

Alfred swiftly sat down in front of the computer and quickly went onto the web. He moved quickly, though he knew he didn't really have to. He hacked into the king's server, experienced from doing it often with the king's express permission. He gained access easily and looked up one, simple word.

_Kirkland_.

There weren't many. In fact, there were three. One of them was dead. Alfred glanced at the two that were alive, finding that they were simple civilians, one working with security cameras and the other working to keep the city streets clean. Nothing stood out that Alfred could find. He clicked on the dead one.

It was a woman. Her picture clearly showed long, bright red hair and bright green eyes that seemed to almost sparkle, even in the photograph. She had been a noble. Her manor had been sold when there was no benefactor to care for it, about five years ago. The servants had all gone off to find other jobs. She had plenty of money, died by a simple accident, or what seemed like an accident. She had been run over by a car that hadn't seen her, which was incredibly unlikely.

The better reason for her death; Alfred remembered that face. He had memorized it long ago. He remembered clearly killing her and the instructions were to ensure that it seemed like an accident. She was suspected of revolutionary activity, but it wasn't confirmed. Ivan hadn't been able to show his true strength by making her a clear assassination target. That was Roderich's first kill on their team.

There was no one left to take care of the house, though it mysteriously stayed running for three years after her death, by the hands of mysterious benefactors, most likely revolutionaries. But there was no further information. There was a possibility Arthur could have been connected with her, but how? How could they find him? What did he mean by looking in the wrong place? Even servants were kept track of, but Arthur's face didn't show in a single one of the profiles…

Alfred searched the name _Arthur_. He swiftly narrowed the search by giving details of how he looked, just that. There were a few men, but none of them looked like him, they just happened to have some of the same features as him. It didn't make sense.

He searched the name _Alfred_. He narrowed down the search easily and nothing came up as well. No picture evidence of either of them. Alfred shook his head.

He searched the name _Gilbert_. Alfred narrowed down the search once again. He could find him, vaguely referenced in something that the king couldn't clear without it being suspicious. It was a page about his brother Ludwig, and his mysterious disappearance. Alfred drummed his fingers against the table. Arthur couldn't be in the same boat as him. Alfred and Matthew had been found as children during the time of turmoil, when there was no care for records. When Ivan had taken the throne. Ivan had chosen to make them invisible. But Arthur? Yes, maybe he had come around during the time of chaos, he looked no older than Alfred…but if he had been taken in by anyone other than the king, there would have been at least one record of him. On top of that, he was a foreigner…It didn't make any sense.

"Alfred," Arthur said, making Alfred flinch slightly. He hadn't realized just how far into his own thoughts that he had gotten. Only now could he hear the chatter in the kitchen, only now could he smell the food wafting through the air, feel the hard couch beneath him, see the house around him. "Dinner."

"Right," Alfred sighed, shutting the computer before standing to join them.

* * *

Ivan absently tapped his finger against the table as he listened to the old men speak around him, make his decisions for him. He didn't mind anymore. It used to annoy him, but, recently…he couldn't bring himself to care. They had all been immensely angry at the loss of Gilbert and Alfred. Gilbert, who had only come in a year ago, had seemed so promising and devoted. A poor boy willing to do anything for the crown, even erase his own life. And Alfred?

Ivan felt the loss as well. Alfred had remained devoted to him, despite everything and Ivan's attempts to get further from the boy and for the boy to think of him as just a man. But he had just left? It didn't make sense. He had vanished without a trace and Matthew had returned from his most recent mission only to tell him that Alfred was there, working with revolutionaries alongside Gilbert? Nothing made sense.

"Ivan, do you understand?" one of the men asked and Ivan raised his eyes to look at them all in turn.

"Yes," Ivan lied. That was all he could do. All he could ever do around these men. They had a chokehold on him from the moment he'd met them and they had given him the "good news". That he was to be king. But in name only. All of the decisions came from the minds in front of him. "What would you like me to do?"

"Smoke them out," one old man said, angrily. They were mad at Alfred. They would have given Matthew full permission to kill him, along with the rest of the team. But Ivan cared too much about the boy. Alfred and Matthew were the closest thing to family he had left, after all. Perhaps he was biased. "Make them think that they're winning, it will make them act rashly. And give your team full permission to kill Alfred and Gilbert on sight."

"Of course," Ivan nodded. For the first time in his life, he would be disobeying orders. The only reason he had given Matthew permission was because he knew he couldn't do it, couldn't pull the trigger on those two. He couldn't allow Alfred to die. It would be his one act of rebellion. All he needed to stay sane. And here he thought he had run out of all rebellion.

* * *

**Some word of advice I have for people; timelines are like Jesus. I was realizing a while ago that this story was getting a little too complicated for me and so I made a timeline with their ages and shit. It's been my best friend recently. And it was a killer timeline; 30 years, if that tells you anything. But, yeah, some advice from an author, timelines will save your ass more ways than you would think.**

**And we got another glimpse at Ivan and how he's doing in this situation. He's a bit of a mess, but don't worry, all will be explained eventually. The family line was important, if you didn't catch it. Also, we learned about this mysterious, dead character that may or may not be affiliated with Arthur. But we're still unable to find him. How intriguing.**

**Next chapter gets even more intriguing, I promise. And mayhaps the USUK will be starting. Only time will tell!**

**Please review!**


	18. Icarus

Chapter 18. Icarus.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Francis asked carefully.

"We can't sit around waiting for so long," Arthur muttered, adjusting the rather large gun resting on his back. Thankfully, they had been able to get more guns in this new town, for which everyone was thankful. Still, Arthur was hesitant in giving Alfred any new weapons. Yes, he believed the man when he said that he was on their side now, but…

"You're spacing out again," Francis snickered. "Are you thinking of Alfred?"

"Sod off," Arthur rolled his eyes, walking towards the main door of their little house. Night had fallen a few hours ago and so it was the perfect time for them to make their move. Arthur had thought through this carefully. He even saw how Alfred would work with the most…outlandish people on their team. Granted, there was zero possibility in him working well with Lovino, no matter the circumstances, but Arthur would just have to keep them separated. Everyone had assembled in front of the door, simply waiting on Arthur and Francis to retrieve their own weapons. "Everyone ready, then?"

"Just waiting on your slow ass," Lovino grumbled, glaring at the door, as if willing it to open. He felt like he was far too close to Alfred and it was showing.

"What is this plan you've been keeping so secret?" Antonio asked curiously.

"Something extremely similar to what happened with Alfred," Arthur sighed and Alfred blinked, looking at him in surprise. "We've had some spies looking into other revolutionary groups and we discovered one with…far less than ideal goals in mind. They plan on attacking somewhat near the capital in just a few hours. That close to the king, I'm sure everyone on that team will be there. We can't sit around forever and expect things to change. This team needs to be out of the way in order for our goals to be accomplished."

"And if they don't come along with us?" Gilbert asked darkly.

"We have two options," Arthur sighed, walking past everyone and towards the door. "We either make them join us…or we kill them."

"Fine with me," Lovino muttered, walking out of the door first.

"Meet up on the town directly to the East of the capital," Arthur ordered as more people filed out. Alfred was the last and Arthur stopped him, a hand placed on his arm, though he knew the man couldn't feel him. "You're still not allowed to kill anyone, are we clear?"

"Yes," Alfred nodded. "But…why?"

"I've seen the way you kill," Arthur said, closing the door and walking into the cool night. Alfred followed him carefully. He most likely knew exactly where he was going, but at the very least, he wanted answers from Arthur. That was enough to keep him close. Arthur didn't want the man too far from him on a mission like this. "It doesn't matter to you. How long have you been killing people?"

"Since I was twelve," Alfred answered easily.

"Even then, did it cause a reaction out of you?" Arthur asked.

"The king ordered it, that was all that mattered," Alfred said. "Why do you care so much?"

"You look at a target like it's nothing else," Arthur said. He had recalled many times looking through Antonio's scope after they had found this mysterious group killing off so many of their friends, partners. Watching Alfred kill was…mesmerizing. "There is no pity, there is no rage, there's just…following orders. You hardly look at them, only long enough to recognize their face. They mean nothing. That is not what killing should be."

"Why not?" Alfred asked. And he was serious. He wasn't joking, he was just merely curious. He had been taught to kill that way all of his life, surely. He didn't know anything else.

"You are taking away someone's life," Arthur said. He thought of Feliciano and shook his head lightly. He couldn't find himself emotionally compromised on a mission like this. "You are ripping them from all reality, everything they knew, everything that knew them. Any person that they knew will feel that kind of bond shatter. The person responsible should feel something. An assassin can't afford to be indifferent. If they are, they risk not becoming a person. When you kill someone like that, you're not severing anything. They never had a connection to anything in the first place."

"Do you think I'm like that?" Alfred asked.

"No," Arthur shook his head. "I can tell that you're not, if nothing else by the way you reacted with you joined this group. The reason I don't want you killing is because I don't want you to become an empty shell. That's far too dangerous."

"You haven't known me for very long," Alfred said. "Why do you feel this way?"

"Because you are a person, no matter what happened to you," Arthur said. "No matter how much of you is made of machines and no matter what your past is, you are a person." Arthur only wished someone had shown him the same amount of kindness. He wished, for the first nineteen years of his life, that someone had called him a person.

Alfred must have sensed how Arthur tensed through his thought process. The next thing Arthur knew, he was looking directly into those deep blue eyes. "You're a person, too."

"I wish it were that easy," Arthur muttered, pushing past him and walking faster.

Alfred sighed behind him and moved at a different pace, going an entirely different direction. He still only had that single pistol with only six shots. Arthur wondered what he was going to do with them. Arthur had his own pistol, tucked away securely in his pants, and he had a few knives for the purpose of throwing, not close combat. He knew that, should he engage in close combat with any member in Alfred's former group, he was sure to lose. The large gun was if he could get into a position like that.

Arthur, sadly, had no great skill in any weapon. A jack of all trades, master of none, as it was said. What he was good at, apparently, was acting as a leader. Arthur was never one to argue, especially to orders from the higher ups, but he did question it. Someone like him? A leader? Only a select few in this team knew his past, but Arthur was sure that, if everyone knew, their respect would leave as quickly as they would. Who would want someone like him as a leader?

* * *

Alfred took a deep breath as he ducked behind a building, quite a few bullets soaring past him. They had caught his old team just as they finished their job, killing the people that, evidently, Arthur wanted dead as well. Alfred still didn't have a headset to listen to the plans of this new team, but he could tell by the way they were moving that they certainly had one. Alfred was still just a distraction. He didn't mind that job, especially in this case.

Their goal was to take another member of his team, try to change their mind. He wasn't sure how well that would work on any of them, especially after everything that had happened. But he took a deep breath and continued onward. He still had all six of his bullets, as he'd been wise and decided to simply run, using Antonio's bullets as his cover. He was sure that all four members of his old team had seen him by now. He assumed his job would be to keep attention away, just like what happened when he was taken that first time.

That seemed like ages ago…but, in reality, only a short time had passed…it was strange.

Alfred shook his head and continued to move, going past a gap and feeling the bullets move barely past him. That was when he noticed it. They weren't shooting to kill him. They were aiming for his arms and legs, something that wouldn't cause him pain, but would leave him unable to move. The king wanted him alive…

Why?

Alfred held his gun securely in his hand. He wasn't given permission to kill anyone and…had that been an order from the king, he would have followed it very closely. However…this was just Arthur, and he hadn't even given a good reason. Alfred knew exactly what he was doing when he killed someone, he wasn't removed, he remembered every single face that had fallen by his hand.

Alfred ducked out behind that building, turning a corner and pointing his gun at the person that he knew would be there. He didn't know which member of his team was there, but he wasn't surprised to find Matthew, with his own gun pointed right at him. It appeared Ivan hadn't given him the same orders as the rest. Neither moved from their positions, staying firmly planted on the ground. Alfred was perfectly aware of his surroundings. Roderich and Kiku were being kept busy by Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert. Elizabeta was nowhere to be seen. So they had taken her. Matthew was the only one that stood in front of him.

Neither of them moved an inch, as if daring the other to fire a shot. From this distance, the shot would surely kill the other. And…as Alfred stared into the dark eyes of his brother, who was clenching his jaw extremely tightly…he discovered that not only would he not fire…he couldn't. He could not bring himself to pull the trigger on his brother. He looked so disheveled, so exhausted. So angry. And it was entirely Alfred's fault.

"Alfred!" Arthur shouted beside him and Alfred flinched in surprise, but didn't move otherwise. He glanced at Arthur swiftly, not allowing Matthew to leave his line of sight for long. Arthur was leaving. The others were leaving as well.

Alfred lowered his gun and began to run and he nearly stopped when he heard a gun fire, slamming just behind him and into a wall, right where he had just been standing. Alfred glanced back in surprise, but started running nonetheless. Obviously, Matthew didn't share Alfred's feelings.

Alfred followed Arthur as they ran from the scene as quickly as possible, into an old, decrepit building that had long since been abandoned. Upon entering, he could already hear people talking, but it didn't sound very good. Alfred followed Arthur up the stairs that creaked and threatened to fall. It was a rather large building, most likely used for offices for a company that had gone under. The voices were on the very top floor.

"Please, just calm down and allow us to explain," Francis tried, he was the first voice that came through clearly as they swiftly ascended the stairs.

"Shove it up your ass," Elizabeta growled.

"If you want to fight, bitch, I'd be fucking happy to," Lovino bit back at her. Alfred finally reached the top floor, just behind Arthur. He took in the scene in front of him. Elizabeta had her hands tied with just a simple rope and Lovino was the one attempting to hold her down. Francis was trying to calm her down with Antonio while Ludwig and Gilbert stayed far away. Elizabeta was previously glaring daggers at Gilbert, but once she noticed the people that had entered the room, Alfred was subject to her harsh gaze.

"Please," Antonio tried. "Just listen."

"Why should I listen to people like you?" Elizabeta demanded, turning her attention to Antonio and Francis. "All of you are going against the king, I should kill all of you where you stand!" Alfred noticed the striking similarities between them as he looked to the ground. What had happened to him? What made his situation any different? Why had he been weak enough to change his mind?

"Alfred, you can leave if you want," Arthur said, walking forward. Elizabeta fought hard against Lovino, attempting to slam her head into his face, but he reacted fast enough.

"Fucking bitch, would you calm down!" Lovino snapped. "Just two fucking seconds, let us talk to you!"

"Nothing you could say would change my mind," Elizabeta growled. "I'm not _weak_." Alfred flinched.

"Elizabeta," Arthur said calmly, stooping in front of her. She looked about ready to attack him, going so far as trying to kick him, but Lovino held her far enough away that she couldn't move. He was stronger than he looked. "It's not a weakness to change your mind. Allow us to show you what we see, without the lens the king has given you to look through."

"I've seen it," Elizabeta ground out. "I know exactly what you know. I'm not blind. I haven't been under his cover all of my life." Alfred flinched again. Was that why it was so easy to sway his mind? All he had seen was what the king wanted him to. Elizabeta had come in from the outside…She already knew. "You think showing me the forced smiles of the people near the border is going to make me any happier, going to make me your puppet? I'll remain loyal to the king to my death!"

She struggled all the more and it was obvious Lovino was struggling to hold her back. Ludwig had taken notice and stepped forward as soon as one of Lovino's hands slipped. Elizabeta didn't hesitate. She swung a leg under Lovino and he fell onto his back, hard. Everyone in the room was quick to pull their guns on her, including Gilbert. Alfred simply watched carefully. He shouldn't waste his bullets on something like this; it was obvious he wasn't getting any other weapon anytime soon.

"Don't move," Arthur ordered. "I'm more than willing to spare your life if you cooperate. If you move, I don't guarantee anything." Alfred could tell by the look in the woman's eyes. She intended to move.

"I only take orders from the king," Elizabeta smirked and ran. She ran towards Arthur, knowing full well that would result in her death the quickest. Lovino was the first to react, but four bullets made their way into the girl and she fell uselessly onto the ground.

Alfred blinked. Something was…wrong. His vision was going blurry from…tears forming in his eyes. But that wasn't right. His breathing was coming out unevenly despite his best efforts at calming himself down. What was wrong with him?

"Alfred," Arthur muttered, his voice soft as he pushed Alfred back down the stairs, keeping him steady and on his feet as he did so.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alfred snapped, pushing his hand away, but only once they reached the next floor down. Why was he so slow to react?

"Look at yourself, Alfred," Arthur stated. "Calm down."

"This," Alfred snapped. "This is exactly why. If I cared about every single person that died in front of me, I would be useless, a stupid person there to take orders that couldn't do it because I'm afraid!" Alfred had no idea what had come over him, maybe it was what Arthur had said earlier. But…seeing Elizabeta on the ground, unbreathing, with two holes in her head and two in her chest… "I don't care so that I can keep moving! If I sit around, feeling like _this_ every time someone died in front of me, what good would I be?"

"Those feelings you have are what it means to be human, Alfred," Arthur said simply. "You are dangerously close to being something else."

"What if I don't want to be human?" Alfred snapped. If having those crippling feelings meant he was human, he didn't want any part of it. Before Alfred could open his mouth again to say something, he felt a searing pain as he heard a sharp _SMACK!_ in the painfully quiet room.

"Don't you dare," Arthur glared darkly at him. "Don't you dare say something like that to me again. Next time you take advantage of something people beg for every day of their lives, I don't guarantee I'll be so kind." Arthur turned sharply on his heel and returned upstairs as Alfred was left alone, his hand carefully covering his stinging cheek. Arthur had hit him hard, not bothering to hold back any of his strength. Had what Alfred said truly affected him so much? What did it mean?

* * *

**So, hopefully, Arthur's past his becoming a little clearer now. Alfred's really smart, yes, but the only reason he hasn't figured it out is because this is a secret he doesn't even know exists. Big clue right there! Anyway, another person is dead, sadly Elizabeta. And Alfred's not sure how to react to this sort of thing. A lot of personality stuff is happening, which is really, very fun. **

**Also, in regards to the title of this chapter; Icarus is not only a Greek myth, but also a song by Bastille, which is amazing and you guys should check it out (if you guys haven't noticed, all of the titles for this fic have been song names). But, this means a lot to this chapter, along with I feel the rest of the fic. For those of you that don't know the myth very well, Icarus and his father created wings to fly, made out of feathers and wax. As they fly, Icarus flies too close to the sun, ignoring his father's warnings, and the wax melts, causing him to fall into the sea. That was an extremely quick, dumbed down version of it, if you want to know the rest, Google is a very nice tool. Anyway, you can compare that myth to this fic as you please (and the song, if you want) and how it'll unfold later.**

**Anyway, please review! It means a lot to me!**


	19. Bleeding Out

Chapter 19. Bleeding Out.

Matthew ran as fast as he could. He had to find Elizabeta. That was the revolutionaries' plan. But he had faith in Elizabeta. She wasn't weak like Alfred. She wasn't a traitor like Gilbert. But that left the question. What would happen if this group didn't get what they wanted? What would they do? There were only three of them now. Three people to search and find their taken comrade against the seven people that took her.

Matthew took out his gun once again as he entered a building that seemed abandoned. He didn't even care about the homeless people around him as he ran right past them, over them, pushing them to the side. They didn't matter. Once he reached the top of the building without finding them, Matthew didn't even hesitate before jumping to the next building, racing down the stairs of that one. Still nothing. Matthew groaned as he continued to run, going right past the buildings that were obviously occupied. He couldn't find anything, no matter where he went.

He stopped cold, however, when he heard the gunshots. They all went off at nearly the same time, four shots. Matthew ran straight for the building he'd heard it from, finding Kiku standing just in front of the door, looking up. They hadn't been shot down…or at least shot near. Their sniper was busy. Either that, or he wasn't expecting them.

"What are you two doing?" Roderich snapped, rounding a corner to face them. "We have to go up there and see if she's okay!"

"Four shots," Matthew said, looking straight up, refusing to look at Roderich. "That wasn't her, and all at once? I'm sorry, Roderich, it doesn't look good."

"Then we go up there and kill all of them," Roderich said darkly.

"You want to get yourself killed, go right ahead," Matthew said harshly, glaring at Roderich beside him. Roderich seemed in a state of panic, he wasn't thinking clearly. He was…just like Matthew when Gilbert and Alfred left. "What do you think will happen when three of us go against seven of them, especially when two of them have fought with us countless times? We have to be smarter than that."

Matthew remembered Ivan's orders from earlier that day. If they encountered the revolutionary group, engage, but don't do it seriously. Ivan had some sort of plan, but Matthew wasn't sure what. He trusted Ivan and his plan whole-heartedly, but he had not expected it to result in the loss of another member.

"You're just giving up?" Roderich snapped and Matthew could clearly see the tears in his eyes. He looked at the ground instead. "That's it? She's dead and we don't stand a chance so we're not going to do anything about it?"

"King's orders," Matthew snapped. "Do not engage seriously. I will not disobey another order from him, neither will you. So help me, I will kill you myself if you engage now, Roderich! Take that chance to see if you can get your vengeance or get actual vengeance later, when we have the orders to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Roderich grumbled, turning sharply towards where Matthew knew their house was, waiting with yet another empty bedroom. He disappeared into the night within seconds. Matthew sighed heavily.

"You are being too harsh on him," Kiku said.

"He nearly got himself killed," Matthew muttered, leaning against the wall. It was dangerous to stay there, but it didn't seem like the group was about to move anytime soon, no doubt expecting them to search them out. They were being careful.

"You felt the same way not too long ago," Kiku reminded him.

"You think I don't know that?" Matthew snapped at him. "That's why I treated him like that! To stop that kind of behavior."

"You can't cure everything with coldness," Kiku said simply. "Sometimes you need kindness."

"I've never needed it," Matthew said. "_We've_ never needed it."

"And look where that's gotten us," Kiku pressed.

"If you want to join them, go right ahead," Matthew scoffed, walking past Kiku and towards their house.

"I would never dream of betraying the king," Kiku admitted.

"Alfred said the same thing," Matthew gritted his teeth. "Gilbert said the same thing. What makes your promise anymore worthwhile?"

"It isn't," Kiku said. "You prove how worthwhile it is with your trust."

Matthew shook his head and took off running. He didn't care anymore. He didn't need philosophical bullshit anymore. Another member had been taken from his team and he wasn't going to stand for it. He would report to the king and request for the ability to use any force necessary. And if the king didn't give him the permission?

He didn't know what he would do then.

* * *

"They've gone," Antonio said, leaning back into the building. He'd been leaning out through a window to watch the three that had stood in front of the building not long ago. Arthur could still feel himself shaking, whether that be from anger or…something else from the memories that flooded after he slapped Alfred…it didn't matter. But he couldn't show weakness. Rather, he leaned against a wall and acted natural. Francis could tell something was wrong, but he was wise enough not to say anything about it. With a deep breath, Arthur stepped forward. Even Alfred and returned upstairs, only to sit down and slump against the nearest wall.

"Let's head back," Arthur said. "You're sure they're far enough away to not see us?"

"I don't think they'd follow even if they did," Antonio shook his head. "They clearly knew we were here, but they didn't bother to enter."

"Then they're smart," Arthur nodded. It was bad odds in their favor. Ludwig had long since moved the body of the woman, Elizabeta, to a lower floor, far away from all of them, especially Alfred. Gilbert was quiet for the majority of the time as well, despite Francis trying to talk to him. Lovino was the most talkative of all of them.

"Let's fucking move, then, I'd rather not get caught in the sunlight," Lovino said simply, walking down the stairs without waiting for anyone. Arthur knew exactly what he was thinking. He had gotten some revenge for his brother, despite hitting the wrong person. He was hitting the team that had done it…and it felt good to him.

Surprisingly, Alfred was second. Evidently, he didn't want to be at the back of the group once again for a chat with Arthur. He wasn't surprised. Gilbert and Ludwig left together, Antonio trailing behind them. Francis waited patiently for Arthur, who let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you alright?" Francis asked carefully.

"I'm bloody fine," Arthur rolled his eyes and walked towards the stairs, Francis following him closely behind.

"It must not have been very bad," Francis noted. "You're only shaking and you can still give orders. That is a very good sign."

"That doesn't mean it's good," Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. They walked right through the floor with the corpse and down to the bottom floor, entering the streets. They were deathly quiet.

"Judging by the red mark on his face, you hit him rather hard. And where it counted," Francis said. "That's easily one of the weakest points in his body since he can't feel his arms or legs."

"He deserved it," Arthur seethed. "Why should I have held back?"

"Do you think there's a chance he knows?" Francis asked.

"I doubt he even knows it exists," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Something like that? Surely, his great and powerful king would never allow it to happen."

"I see, then," Francis muttered. "But you will forgive him."

"What makes you so sure?" Arthur bristled. "I might, I might not. What he said was…foolish, stupid."

"But he didn't know what he was saying," Francis reminded him. The night was eerily calm, no sign of any members of their little team as they went their separate ways back home. Arthur was sure they were the only two walking back. "He doesn't know."

"No one should know," Arthur reminded him. "He tosses away his humanity as if it's nothing, like it doesn't matter to him. He just doesn't…understand."

"Give him a chance to, then," Francis said. "Allow him in and perhaps he'll allow you in. You can hardly consider yourself human if you don't open up your emotions to other people."

"I know," Arthur said simply. "I'm just…a little new at this sort of thing," he chuckled humorlessly.

"New at feeling?" Francis asked. "New at wanting to help others understand you? No, I don't think you're new to that at all. I believe you've been at that longer than most of us."

"Sod off," Arthur rolled his eyes, elbowing the man. But, still, a small smile played on his lips. Francis knew of his past, he knew everything. But, at the same time, he didn't make a spectacle of it. He never brought it up unless Arthur did first, he always danced around the subject in a way that Arthur could respect. He was a friend.

"Alfred isn't all bad," Francis smiled. "Don't let a small mess up ruin what you already have with him."

"And what do you think I have with him?" Arthur asked.

"Something you don't quite understand yet," Francis chuckled. "But I am sure you will in due time."

"Don't give me anymore of your romantic bullshit," Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. "There is nothing like that between us."

"I would believe you," Francis chimed, "if you didn't react like you do around him. If he didn't matter to you, how could he elicit so many reactions out of you? Not many people can make you slap them, nor do many people get the honor of talking with you as much as you do him. You, at the very least, care for him."

"Perhaps," Arthur straightened his back. "But that means nothing."

"Yet," Francis smirked.

"Shut up," Arthur groaned. He didn't mind having these calming moments of being able to just…talk with someone. Talk about something that didn't involve killing someone or starting some new mission. Arthur had quite a lot on his plate, but it was nice to be able to forget about it every now and then… He only wished Alfred had that luxury.

* * *

"I am very sorry, Your Majesty," Matthew said, kneeling before the king. He was surprised to find that, upon his return, the king was still awake, though he wasn't waiting for them, that much was certain. Other matters were weighing no his mind, Matthew could tell just by seeing him. For now, he had to do what he was told, for now he had to report and obey orders. He had already told the man what had happened to Elizabeta, though he hadn't been told to look up yet and so remained staring at the floor.

"I see," Ivan muttered after a short silence. "I am sorry we will not be able to perform a proper ceremony for your fallen comrade." Matthew knew that much. Even Roderich was sane enough in his mind to understand that. They were assassins, none of them existed anymore. Even Arthur's group of assassins knew that well enough. The body Matthew had recovered had been disposed of quickly once they were able to identify him and make sure the information Alfred had given them originally was correct. "I did not intend for so many to die for my sake."

"Your Majesty, I would gladly die for your sake," Matthew pledged, nearly looking up at the man.

"That is what I am worried about," Ivan muttered. It was obvious he did not intend Matthew to hear him, so the assassin said nothing about it. "How is the team dealing with her loss?"

"Kiku is normal," Matthew reported. "Roderich, however, has become emotionally compromised. I fear he will prove to be rather useless in future missions until he is able to control his emotions again. It appears as though we will have to rely on myself and Kiku alone for future missions."

"I am more than willing to provide soldiers for your support," Ivan said simply. He let out a small sigh and shifted, most likely leaning back in his throne. "Matthew, I have a question for you."

"I will answer anything you ask, Your Majesty," Matthew said.

"What do you think of me?" Ivan asked simply. "Not as a king, not as someone you have known all of your life. But as a person. What do you think of me?"

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Not as your king," Ivan said clearly. "Look at me," Matthew obeyed the order, looking at the king's eyes. He was…distressed. It was quite obvious he had not gotten much sleep recently and he looked…vulnerable. This was a question he wanted answered as honestly as possible. "Give me your answer."

"You are a strong man," Matthew said. "Based on the stories and history I have read and learned, you fought bravely for years for the sake of this country, you showed kindness to injured infants that had no connection to you, and you have the ability to lead this country through a time as rough as this, caring only for the people." He noticed the way Ivan's eyes seemed to show…hurt as he spoke. It was almost as if he knew that the words Matthew was speaking weren't true. "And, even as the people close to you betrayed your trust and are dying for your sake, you are able to remain the same. You have not fallen to anger or sorrow and, though you obviously lack the sleep you need, you are far from weak. I envy your ability."

"I don't even know if it is strength holding me together," Ivan sighed. "Or simply a lack of the emotions that make one weak."

"It is not weakness," Matthew said. That was at least one thing he had learned from Kiku and this experience. "Nor do I believe you lack the ability."

"Thank you, Matthew," Ivan said, not looking in his direction. "You should sleep. I have no mission for you in the near future."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Matthew nodded and stood, turning to leave the room. He heard a heavy sigh from the man behind him that sounded like it should belong to a broken man, but Matthew ignored it. It wasn't for him to hear.

He refused to admit that his king was a weak man.

* * *

**Another depressing aftermath chapter. Well, I never promised that this was going to be a happy fic, now did I? Action will probably be picking up after this, but I don't promise anything. We can't know Matthew's next moves for certain, but I can assure you that Arthur is going to be moving quickly starting now, so you can all look forward to that!**

**Anyway, please review! It's totally awesome!**


	20. What Kind of Man

Chapter 20. What Kind of Man.

**(A/N: this chapter contains explicit mention of someone being triggered, just as a warning to all of you)**

Alfred hadn't slept, but that didn't come as much of a surprise. Every time he closed his eyes, every time he blinked, the image of Elizabeta was brought up. He couldn't shake it, the feeling of dread that overcame him every time he thought of her. He shook, he cried. It wasn't him, he couldn't be emotionally compromised from something as simple as this. It was just another death, that was all I could mean. He was a man surrounded by death, since the moment he was born, people were dying around him. It was only thanks to the kindness of the king that he and his brother had actually lived.

But was that really a good thing?

Come morning, after the people in his new team had gotten some sleep, they were up and walking around normally. Francis cooked a breakfast that Alfred only ate because he knew he needed the strength. He couldn't afford to be both weak in his mind and body. Alfred didn't listen to or talk to anyone throughout the morning, simply keeping to himself. He didn't even know if anyone tried to talk to him.

"Alfred," Arthur's voice finally broke him from his thoughts. He was still seated at the table, but the dishes were gone, currently being cleaned by Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert, who were laughing and joking with each other. Arthur frowned at him, but otherwise acted as if nothing was wrong. "You're coming with me today. I have a mission and I'll need you."

"Why me?" Alfred asked.

"I have those three doing something else today, Lovino is no good as a bodyguard, and Ludwig is necessary in this town, if five of us will be gone," Arthur said simply. "Towns like this must be protected, but he can handle that with Lovino, if necessary."

"What are we doing?" Alfred asked carefully.

"I'm meeting a contact," Arthur said. "To discuss what our next moves should be, seeing as our old method has failed." Alfred stared at the table once again. "I need a bodyguard."

"Fine," Alfred said. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you meet me at the front door," Arthur said, turning to leave the room without another word. Alfred sighed and stood up, but surprisingly Gilbert stood in front of him before he could leave.

"What?" Alfred asked simply.

"Don't let what she said get to you," Gilbert sighed. Alfred narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

"What makes us so different?" Alfred asked. "I should have died for him, too, but I didn't."

"That doesn't make you weak," Gilbert pressed. "Remember where she came from. She's not like you, by any means. She would never make the same decisions as you. She didn't die for loyalty, she died for respect. I don't know much about you and your brother, but I know that he saved your lives. How the hell would dying for him prove anything to him other than the fact that you don't care?"

"Thanks," Alfred muttered and turned and left as well. That was true, he hadn't thought about that before. He valued his life because the king had given it to him, in a way. Elizabeta had joined because of complete and utter respect for the king, as a man and leader. She followed orders because he was the king.

Alfred disobeyed orders because Ivan was a man.

When had he thought about it like that?

He joined Arthur at the door and the man nodded to him before leaving out the door. From observing, Alfred could tell that he had a few knives and guns on him. Alfred still just had his pistol with six shots. They walked into the streets calmly, though briskly, and Alfred simply followed him in silence. Was he still mad about what Alfred had said the day before? Alfred wasn't about to break the silence, he hardly knew how, and so they walked for quite some time in silence.

"Who is this contact?" Alfred asked eventually. They were going to the border, that much he knew, though they were walking through fairly busy streets, evidently hoping to be lost in the crowd.

"You'll find out shortly," Arthur said simply. "We have some time before we are to meet them, though I would like to be nearby just in case something should happen."

Alfred nodded and continued walking with him. The crowd thinned eventually as more and more people went to work and Alfred felt fairly obvious, though Arthur didn't seem apprehensive in the slightest. That is, until he caught sight of soldiers further down the road. He stopped for only a second before taking a sharp right turn. Alfred followed easily. Every soldier most likely knew the faces of everyone in Arthur's group, including Alfred. At the very least, Alfred knew the king hadn't given orders to kill him, but Arthur was another story entirely. That was why he was there, though. To act as a bodyguard. Alfred could see more soldiers as well, on regular routines to ensure that people went to their jobs. They would be in danger of being caught soon.

Alfred was proven right in just a few moments when there was a soldier straight ahead that recognized them. He used his radio to inform the others.

"Damn, I thought we could last longer," Arthur muttered.

"Why did you decide to take such a heavily populated road?" Alfred asked him.

"The crowds, though they dwindled far faster than I anticipated," Arthur sighed.

Alfred glanced around swiftly to find some way out of this situation. They were close to a street, cars moving quickly along it, though quite a few of them were parked on the side. Alfred gripped onto Arthur's wrist, pulling him along with him as he moved quickly towards the car.

"Do you know how to drive?" Arthur asked.

"Can't be hard to figure out," Alfred shrugged, quickly moving to the driver's side of the car, leaving Arthur at the passenger's side.

* * *

Arthur was extremely surprised. Alfred did pick up things extremely quickly, he was very adaptable. Which was exactly how he got himself stuck inside of a car going impossibly fast, just a few seconds after Alfred was confused about which pedal to use to go and which one to use to stop. Now, however, he was clutching onto the seat for dear life while Alfred had traces of a smile on his face, going whatever direction pleased him, managing to turn on a dime, despite the screeching of the tires. Despite all of this, not a single other driver was harmed, at least by him. The soldiers attempting to follow were not as kind.

"What, exactly, is your plan?" Arthur asked, about ready to hyperventilate from the stress of this car ride. He'd never ridden in a car before, never. He walked everywhere in his past, even with nobles. He wasn't worthy of a car, or some other garbage like that. It was a terrifying experience.

"You'll see," Alfred smirked slightly as he took a rather sharp turn. They had returned exactly where they had started. Did Alfred even know what he was doing, for crying out loud?! Alfred messed with the buttons on the dashboard until he found the one he wanted. "Jump."

"Are you insane?" Arthur snapped. Alfred had stopped steering, but the wheel turned for him. He had set it to drive automatically the same exact way he had done so during this whole circle. "Do you know how fast we're going?!"

"Slow enough to jump out if you do it right," Alfred suggested. He opened the door and ducked out without a second thought. Arthur took a deep breath to center himself before he did the same. The door practically closed on him from the force of the car moving and he rolled onto the ground. He got a few scrapes and his back hurt like hell, but as he crouched to recover, he found himself surprisingly…okay. Alfred ran up to him within a few seconds, pushing him into a tight alleyway and pushing him up against a wall. Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but quieted himself down when he heard the sirens on the soldiers' cars pass them by. He had no idea they were that far behind. They wouldn't have seen the two of them duck out of the car and there was no one on the streets any longer to point them in the right direction. It was a great plan.

Arthur allowed himself to collect his breath before he realized the situation he was in. His back was pressed against a wall as the taller man in front of him leaned against him, looking out to the street just to make sure no one was really following them. Arthur had never noticed just how muscular he was until he saw it that close and he found a light blush dusting his face.

"Alfred," Arthur said and Alfred seemed to notice as well, leaning back slightly. Arthur heard the sounds of his arms as they moved away. It was astounding to think that they were actually mechanical. They clanked slightly and it sounded almost painful, though if it hurt Alfred, he didn't show it. If Arthur had not been so focused on Alfred's arms, he would have seen the light blush on the man's face as well.

"We should keep moving," Alfred said and Arthur nodded. They would have to be more secretive now as they moved about, but that would be no problem for them. The only problem would be the daylight. Whatever possessed their bloody contact to do this in daylight, Arthur had no idea. But it was bloody stupid.

They moved quickly through the alleyways, though there were quite a number of soldiers. The news would spread to the king, surely, though Arthur had no clue how he would react. It was just a sighting, quite far from their hideout, though he could easily still send members from his dwindling team to take care of them. That would not be good with only two of them.

"You should rest," Alfred said eventually. They were near a warehouse where the only sound was people moving large objects to trucks, though they were a fair distance away, unable to notice them where they crouched in a dark corner.

"I'm fine," Arthur shook his head. He was panting quite a lot, though, and his legs ached. He'd been through far worse, though that had been quite some time ago. They still had some time, they could handle a break, surely. Thankfully, Alfred pressed the matter and so they sat down together. Alfred didn't show any signs of fatigue, though he did seem grateful to sit down. "Out of curiosity, do your legs ever get tired?"

"Like any machine, if they work for too hard for too long, they'll start to break down," Alfred nodded. "I have to be aware of it even though I can't feel it. And now I won't be able to get replacements very easily. This is the only pair I've got."

"And you've always been like this?" Arthur asked. "Without arms or legs?"

Alfred nodded. "During the revolution when the king took power, counterrevolutionaries found my brother and I and tried to have their fun with us. The only reason I need these glasses is because they slashed the eyes of both me and my brother. The king stopped them and it was thanks to him that we lived. The doctors did what they could, but our eyesight still isn't very good. And you can't sew back on lost limbs."

"Are they painful?" Arthur asked.

"When you change them, it hurts like hell," Alfred laughed slightly. "Growing pains took on a whole new meaning and the only reason I did it was because the king said I should. Luckily, I stopped growing a while ago, but I've broken a few others still." A cat walked up to them delicately, as if afraid of them. It approached Alfred and sniffed his foot, twitching slightly before rubbing up against his leg when it discovered he was no threat. Alfred looked at it carefully. "I've never known what it's like to feel something with my arms and legs. And I'm always afraid I'll break something if I hold it because I just don't know how much pressure is too much."

"The world isn't as delicate as you think," Arthur said simply, watching the cat as it looked up at Alfred expectantly. It wanted to be petted, but Alfred only patted its head delicately. The cat wasn't amused. "You'll find its rather hard to break what you want to."

Alfred looked at him with a small smile. His eyes had gotten brighter, evidently whatever Gilbert had talked to him about had helped him get over that slump he had been in about Elizabeta. Originally, Arthur had expected him to be a rather ruthless, emotionless killer. But he was pleasantly surprised now. He was full of suppressed emotions and thoughts that wanted to come pouring out, but he was holding them all back. Staring at each other like they were, Arthur didn't even realize that he was leaning forward with Alfred until the man blinked and swiftly stood, alarming the cat enough to make the creature run off to go find other entertainment.

"You shouldn't be afraid of your emotions," Arthur sighed, standing up with little effort. He hardly understood it himself, but he could feel his endlessly churning stomach the longer he looked at Alfred, the more he thought about him. He was such an interesting man and it was astounding how someone like him could be brought up like he was. Raised to be an emotionless assassin dedicated to the king, but in reality just a man trying to understand the world around him. That light blush returned to his face and he shook his head lightly.

"I shouldn't be…feeling anything," Alfred said, running a hand through his hair. "That's the problem."

"You'll find things make more sense when you don't just think about them analytically," Arthur sighed. "If there is something you want to do, I suggest you just do it. I find thinking holds you back."

"And what if it's the wrong thing to do?" Alfred asked.

"Then that is a problem you will just have to fix later," Arthur shrugged. "Just try it once. One thing that pops into your mind, just do it. See how it turns out for you."

"Anything?" Alfred asked, seeming almost skeptical, though it did seem as though he had something in mind. Arthur nodded carefully. Alfred bit his lip slightly, but he moved forward regardless. Before Arthur could react, Alfred placed his hands delicately on his head as he leaned forward and placed his lips on Arthur's. This was one of the first things to pop into Alfred's head? Surprisingly, Arthur didn't pull back or move away and neither did Alfred.

He felt his breath get taken away at the sensation of his touch and it had yet to return as Arthur pushed back. Arthur was able to push his memories and fears into the back of his head as he stumbled back slightly, hitting the wall. Alfred was…clumsy, inexperienced in something like this. Despite that, Arthur's mind was still reeling, his lips almost feeling like they were burning from his touch.

Arthur breathlessly pulled back just enough for him to nip lightly at the upper part of Alfred's neck, sucking slightly as he let go. Alfred gasped and groaned in surprise and pleasure and Arthur smirked. He at least knew how to do this. He could only do that one more time, slightly further down Alfred's neck, before the man captured his lips once again and Arthur felt all of his breath leave him all over again.

That was when he heard them. The men moving heavy objects from the warehouse beside them…something scraped against the ground, clanked loudly against each other. Chains. Arthur froze. They all flooded in, the memories, the pain, the words. He couldn't breathe, he started shaking, violently. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth. He barely had the strength to push Alfred off of him. His body screamed at him for oxygen, but his lungs refused to work. All he could hear were those chains.

He felt his legs fail him as his wrists and ankles _burned_ the healing bruise on his face all the more obvious to him as massive tears welled in his eyes, to the point where he couldn't even see, see the flashes of memories assaulting him as his body refused to stay still, shaking and trembling to the point where Arthur couldn't stay still, no matter how much he just wanted to curl into himself and die.

Those chains clanked and Arthur was forced to remember that feeling of utter humiliation, complete pain, and unforgiveable horror. It was years ago, but all of the memories were so fresh in his mind that it felt like they were happening to him in that moment. He still couldn't breathe, despite the fact that air was finally flowing into his lungs. He couldn't see around him.

"Arthur!" someone's voice cut through, and not those voices from his memories, the voices dripping in hatred and lust, that screamed at him when he had messed up without meaning to. But he just blended in with them.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Arthur finally managed words, shoving this mystery person as far away as he possibly could. Despite his hands being right in front of him, he couldn't see the trembling. It felt like the world was surrounding him, making it impossible for him to…to feel. To think. To do anything.

* * *

Alfred stared in wonder at Arthur, unsure of what to do. He hadn't known what had come over him earlier, deciding to kiss him like he'd seen countless people do it. He respected Arthur and his control and it was just an idea. Arthur had told him not to think about it. Now, however, he had no idea what was happening.

Arthur had started shaking uncontrollably, had pushed him away. He was on the ground, but it didn't look like he was aware of it, hyperventilating as he stared at nothing in front of him. Alfred had tried to get through to him, but he had been pushed away. Now Alfred knelt in front of the man, who was in a blind panic, unable to see the world around him. Alfred was helpless. Arthur's shaking hands attempted to cover his ears and Alfred paid attention to the sounds around him. The people moving were scraping chains across the ground.

Alfred decided, once again, to move without thinking, and placed his hands over Arthur's, firmly covering his ears. Arthur jolted, but when he looked at Alfred, his eyes focused. He could see him there. He was trembling and crying. It wasn't like Arthur at all. Whatever those chains were doing to him, it was truly horrible.

They stayed like that, in quiet. Alfred listened for the chains until they disappeared, but he stayed still for quite some time, to ensure they didn't come back. He carefully moved his hands off of Arthur's head. He was taking slow, deep breaths as his trembling calmed down, though it didn't disappear.

"Arthur," Alfred said delicately, and Arthur's attention snapped onto him. He was coming back to reality. "What happened?"

"Bullocks," Arthur muttered, curling tighter into himself and hiding his face. Alfred blinked in surprise. "You weren't…you shouldn't have…"

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked carefully.

"Do I look like I am okay?" Arthur snapped, glaring up at him. "No, I am not okay!"

"That sound," Alfred trailed off. He was trying to understand, he really was. But something told him that bringing up the sound was a bad idea. He didn't want Arthur returning to what he was like before.

"You would never understand," Arthur muttered darkly. He breathed in and out shakily before he looked Alfred in the eyes again. No one was around, the people moving objects into the truck had returned inside for more work, the truck was long gone, it was just them. "I'm not okay…"

"I can help," Alfred said. "You just need to tell me-"

"No!" Arthur snapped at him. "This isn't something to talk about. That? What just happened…" Arthur closed his eyes tightly, breathing deeply to calm him down. "The reason why I don't side with your king, why I'll never forgive him, is because he claims he has improved our society and yet he made it legal for people to sell others as property." Alfred blinked at him in surprise. That was news to him. He had heard of slavery, but Ivan would never allow for it to happen in his own country. He was a good man, he would never allow for that to… "You don't understand," Arthur shook his head, his voice angry.

"I…" Alfred muttered. He had heard the king's opinion on slavery. He hated it. Alfred had killed a man that had owned a person, though he only realized that now. Ivan had used different words for it, but regardless, he was angry.

So…Arthur was a slave? It made sense. He was a foreigner that didn't exist as a person. Alfred had really looked in the wrong location all along. He had been looking through people, not property. The chains…he had…been reminded….about…

"I'm sorry," Alfred muttered, not quite knowing what else to say.

"How is that supposed to help?" Arthur scoffed, tightening his hands into fists to glare at them while they trembled. "Legally, I am still not a person. That is why I refuse to be captured alive. They would simply return me to property. That is why I fight with the revolutionaries. To get rid of slavery once they take power."

"The king," Alfred said uselessly. "He would never allow-"

"The law states it is not allowed in public," Arthur said, his voice dangerously low as his eyes narrowed at Alfred. "That is the only law regarding slavery, no regulations, simply that we can't be _seen_."

"I-" Alfred tried to speak once again, but Arthur suddenly stood up, his hands clenched tightly, as if he refused to continue shaking.

"That was a terrible decision on my part, don't think it will happen again," Arthur said stiffly, turning to the street and taking a few, weak steps. "We should keep moving."

"Are you going to pretend that never happened? "Alfred asked.

"We are on a mission," Arthur said coldly, not looking at him. "I am a leader of a group meant to allow the revolutionary army to take the capital easily. I cannot afford to allow something like that happen to me. So it didn't happen."

"And you tell me not to lock up my emotions," Alfred muttered, though Arthur didn't hear him, walking ahead. Alfred sighed heavily, standing up and following the man through the empty streets, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. But Alfred could still clearly see Arthur trembling the entire time, tears occasionally forming in his eyes, but refusing to fall.

* * *

**Pretty long chapter this time around, because I wanted so much to happen. Finally a USUK moment and I tried not to make it too sudden but I believe I failed. Oh, well, Alfred's not used to things like normal emotions, so it's kind of an excuse. In any case, Arthur's past has been revealed (but I will reveal even more because I have decided to give characters backstories, but you'll only see those at the end of the story) and in not the best way possible. I have never had a panic attack, though I have done research into it, I've helped some people through them, and I've read other fics with panic attacks so I put all of that information together and I hope it was fairly accurate. If it wasn't, I apologize and I will fix it if I can as fast as possible. So, Arthur was a slave, bought and sold as property, never considered a human, which is why he cares so much about stuff like that. More will be revealed in due time, not to worry.**

**Also, I must apologize, this weekend is pretty hectic with me, what with Prom, work, and a shit ton of homework piled on me. As such, this is the only chapter you're getting this week and I'm so sorry, but at least it was a long one, eh?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and see you guys next chapter!**


	21. Lights

Chapter 21. Lights.

They walked in silence all the way up to the border. There were, oddly, no soldiers about and they could walk freely up to it. Alfred noticed that there were signs of a struggle on the ground, scraping on the concrete, dents from heavy metal hitting it. They didn't seem to be old.

"Where is he?" Arthur asked impatiently, hiding his trembling hands by placing them into his pockets.

"I was, like, waiting for you," Feliks' voice said and Alfred froze. The man appeared from behind a building easily and calmly, many bodyguards following after him, all with guns pointed at the two of them. Feliks looked at Alfred with interest. "No way! I totally knew you were an assassin! What, were you a traitor or something?"

"No, that was Gilbert," Alfred muttered, looking to the ground instead of the king in front of him.

"Whatever, don't be such a fuddy duddy," Feliks rolled his eyes, walking up to Arthur calmly. Arthur was still stiff and on edge and didn't react easily to the man's close vicinity.

"I was told that we would need to talk about timing and the current state of our plans," Arthur breathed heavily through his words and Alfred bit his lip to keep himself from talking. The people he was going to investigate really were going against the king, teaming up with the revolutionaries inside the country. Why? That was one of the many questions popping into Alfred's head. Why waste their time teaming up with revolutionaries in this small, uninfluential country?

"Yeah," Feliks sighed. "President Yao is getting all impatient and junk, especially once he figured out that his advisor, like, totally abandoned him. I think he ran into the country not too long ago. Whatever, we're going to need to move sooner than planned, alrighty?"

"How much sooner?" Arthur asked skeptically.

"Um… in like a week or so," Feliks shrugged. "No legit details since Matthias and his crew need to get their military worked up without Ivan noticing." A week? That soon? They were going to attack the country that soon? What would happen to the king? "Hey, broski, you seem a little off, today, what did something happen on the way over here?"

"Nothing of importance," Arthur sighed. "I make no guarantees with a week. There are still three members in Ivan's assassin team, all of them extremely dangerous to your goals. I have even been told that one of them comes from the village that disappeared years ago, the village of assassins."

"Hm, whatevs, man," Feliks said. "If you can't do it, you can't. You've already narrowed down the team, right? You even broke up the scary twin duo, right?" He started laughing and Alfred winced slightly. He wondered, briefly, what would happen if he were to kill the man in front of him. There were seven bodyguards around him, Alfred didn't have that many shots. Damn. "But, we'll see you in about a week. You'll know when we're coming, I don't think it'll, like, take much time anyway, considering how easy it is to get rid of the military in this place! We could take the capital in a day or two, right?"

"I believe so," Arthur said. "That all depends on the assassins that remain."

"Right," Feliks shrugged, stretching. "Okay, then, Imma head back home, you keep doing what you do and I'll be around! We'll send you a note when we're on our way!" Feliks happily waved, going over the border. The small, insignificant line that separated the two countries.

Neither Alfred or Arthur said a word for a while as they stood there. Eventually, Arthur sighed heavily and turned around to begin the walk back to their hideout.

"So, that's it?" Alfred asked. "We go back and just start moving faster?"

"What other choice do we have, Alfred?" Arthur asked coolly as Alfred followed him. "The original plan was to have your team on our side, we thought it would be rather simple though we were proven wrong. It was your group keeping the revolutionaries at bay, considering just how easy it was for these unseen assassins to take down large groups. If we can, at the very least, bring the number down to two, the chances at victory will be far greater."

"So who do you plan to kill next?" Alfred asked coldly.

"I do not want to kill anyone," Arthur sighed. "If I can avoid it, I will. We will just have to see what happens, won't we?"

Alfred could guess easily enough. The weakest person remaining in the group was Roderich. He was, by far, the easiest to kill. Considering Elizabeta had died, he was most likely extremely volatile and emotionally compromised. Who knew what he would be capable of doing, though he certainly wouldn't join this group now.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back.

* * *

Matthew panted, sweat dripping from his brow, but he kept his hands up to block the punch that came his way too fast for him to dodge properly. He stepped quickly around the man in front of him, swiping his leg at him in hopes of forcing him to lose his footing. Sadly, the man worked well with that, using his hands as leverage as he fell to flip, nearly hitting Matthew with his feet if he hadn't moved away fast enough. Matthew bit his lip and charged before the man regained proper footing, trying to slam his fist into the man's gut, but the man was too quick, easily pushing away his fist with little force. The man retaliated by attempting to land a blow on Matthew as well, but Matthew parried, getting out of that situation easily enough.

"I believe we are equals in this matter," the man chuckled slightly as they both stepped away from each other. Matthew smiled slightly as he picked up a towel to wipe some of the sweat off of his face.

"Good spar, Kiku," Matthew nodded to him with a small smile. It felt refreshing to do this again, go into that abandoned building and just fight, without thinking about the king's orders, without thinking of the revolutionaries. He could just let his fists do the talking. Kiku was more than willing to spar with him while Roderich moped in his room. "You've gotten faster since last time."

"As have you," Kiku smiled. "I recall one of the first times we sparred, I took you by surprise with my speed. How fast was I able to pin you again?"

"A few seconds," Matthew laughed at the memory. Alfred made fun of him for days. Until he sparred with Kiku himself and was taken down in even less time. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Kiku nodded, sitting down on the ground gracefully. Matthew nodded to him and sat down as well, just a few feet in front of him.

"Your loyalty to the king," Matthew began, but he stopped himself. "I don't question it. I'm sorry for having done so in the past. But…Elizabeta, she respected him, more than anyone, he was someone to look up to. For me, I am fully devoted to him, I've seen all of the good in him and his ability as a leader. I thought Alfred felt the same. Gilbert had said something similar to Elizabeta, but he claimed that he would do anything for the country and the man that lead such a thing. Roderich…he was smart, but blinded by what happened with his father. He is loyal like any citizen should be, simply with the ability to kill. What about you? You came from a town that no longer exists, you were…forced to join."

"At first," Kiku smiled slightly. "It was an order. I was young, I did not understand much. I did, however, understand one thing. We were hired assassins, whoever gave you money for a job, you took it, no matter what it meant. This was that job, though it seems the money did go to waste. I feel the same as you, however. The king showed me kindness, he showed strength, and an ability to make a person want to follow his order, no matter how absurd it could be. I am no longer a hired hand, mostly due to my loyalty to the king. There is no money involved, but I do not want it."

"And if they were to take you?" Matthew asked. "If they tried to change your mind? What would you do?"

"I would laugh," Kiku said simply. "Nothing can change my mind. It is due to the king that I have had experiences that would have been taken from me, should I have stayed in that massacred village. Elizabeta died out of loyalty, out of respect."

"Would you die for him, too?" Matthew asked.

"Yes," Kiku said without hesitating. "Would you?"

"Of course," Matthew pressed and Kiku shook his head. "What?"

"Ivan gave you life," Kiku said. "It is different than me. You were on the brink of death and he allowed you and your brother to live, out of no other goal than kindness. If you were to throw that away, what would it show him?"

"I am grateful for the life he gave me," Matthew said, leaning forward. "That is why I am willing to give it up for him!"

"How could he accept that?" Kiku asked. "It is a gift he gave you, no one else. It is not meant to be given back for something as small as loyalty."

"Then how should I show my loyalty?" Matthew asked. "Obey orders until I can't anymore? Protect him like I've been doing for…for years? The man that I would give anything for…he is…falling apart. There is too much for him to worry about and he hardly sleeps. He fights harder for this country than any soldier out there. How can I hold a candle to that? How can I show him that I appreciate everything he does?"

"Listen to him," Kiku said. "I have heard it, I have no doubt you have as well. He sighs when he sees us, Not due to disappointment, rather due to something else. You only treat him as a king. Perhaps treat him like a man."

"If I do that, I am showing to him that his weakness is obvious," Matthew said. "No…it's not weakness…But, he may view it as such. If I treat him like a man, he may think that everyone thinks he is weak. He is my king, he is strong…"

"Then treat him as a strong man," Kiku said.

"You make it sound easy," Matthew huffed.

"You said we would not have many assignments in the near future," Kiku said. "I am sure the king will need this time to rest, at least a little, but perhaps when he calls you in next time, rather than kneel before him, you can stand with him. It may relieve his stress, even slightly."

"Alfred and I used to do that," Matthew smiled slightly. "We would run through the capital building until we found him and Alfred could talk to him without fear, but I've never been good with talking. But then these men came in, the ones that trained us. They told us, in order to truly respect our king, we had to kneel before him, treat him as if he was a God. To us, he was. But Alfred always complained about not being able to talk with him like he used to be able to. I was a little sad, too."

"Perhaps he misses it as well," Kiku nodded. "Anyway, we should return to Roderich, I have no doubt that he is still in his stages of grief."

"Let's cook something," Matthew offered as he stood. "I haven't cooked for a while, have I?"

"I would be happy to," Kiku smiled to him and the two men left the old, abandoned building in the middle of the capital.

* * *

"They're alive!" Gilbert called out once Alfred and Arthur entered the house. Arthur simply nodded to him before going to his room, closing the door loudly. Alfred winced at the sound and simply sat on the couch. "Kay, I take that back, what happened?"

"Nothing," Alfred answered. It wasn't exactly wrong. Arthur said nothing happened, therefore nothing happened, right? "Feliks said that we have a week before they start to move."

"Damn, that soon, huh?" Gilbert muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Where is Arthur?" Francis asked, finally coming from the kitchen.

"He's being a loner," Gilbert shrugged. "Probably planning an attack strategy now that we're on a time crunch."

"He is in his room?" Francis asked and Alfred glanced back at him. He was calculating something in his head, looking right at Alfred. "Alfred, come with me for a moment."

"Sure," Alfred nodded and followed the man to his room. Francis closed the door securely.

"What happened?" Francis asked simply, though the tone of his voice nearly sent chills down Alfred's spine. "Arthur doesn't just go into his room, especially not in the middle of the day. He us usually planning something, researching. What happened?"

"If you ask him, he says nothing," Alfred scoffed simply, sitting down on the man's bed. It still irritated him that Arthur was the one preaching to him that he should allow his emotions more control, and yet he was locking his up tight.

"I know about every aspect of Arthur's life," Francis said simply. "If something happened, tell me what."

"There were chains," Alfred said quietly and Francis' features dropped to…surprise. He hadn't expected that. "He…freaked out, I don't know. He wasn't himself."

"What did he tell you?" Francis asked, kneeling down in front of him and matching his gaze.

"That he was a slave," Alfred said. "That he's still considered property. Why wasn't I informed of this? As far as I knew, slavery wasn't allowed in this country!"

"Arthur's pride hardly allows him to accept it," Francis sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he looked away from Alfred. "He is a leader of a team. What do you think they will say if they discover that their leader isn't even considered human?"

"How do you know?" Alfred asked suspiciously.

"Never mind how I know," Francis said, standing up. "Did he tell you anything else? About his past?"

"No," Alfred shook his head. "Just that he can't forgive the king for allowing it."

"I cannot tell you much," Francis sighed. "That story is for Arthur alone to tell. However, I can tell you this much, to help you understand. Think about Arthur and his features, the way he carries himself. Do you think those are the features of a slave that was forced to do menial labor?"

Alfred looked up at the man, but he was quick and out the door in a second, without a trace. He was right, though. Arthur's hands weren't callused or tough, he was lean, though hardly considered muscular. So if he wasn't used for menial labor, what was he used for?

Alfred stood hesitantly and walked back to the living room. Lovino was lounging on the couch, appearing to be spacing out and staring at the ceiling. Alfred could hear Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis laughing in the kitchen. Ludwig was nowhere to be seen.

"Wanna take a seat?" Lovino asked simply, calmly. It was like he was a different person when he wasn't cursing or angry. "I'm not gonna bite you, idiot."

Alfred silently sat on the other end of the couch and he stared out the open door that allowed him to see the bustling town around him. Was this what all of the towns were going to look like once Arthur's group took control? Would the revolutionaries truly make anything better?

The two of them sat in silence, staring off into space, thinking about different thoughts, until they were jerked out of the silence by dinner. Ludwig had come back in just in time for food.

* * *

**I'm beginning to really enjoy those Kiku and Matthew moments. By no means am I shipping them, Matthew is taken, whether or not he accepts that at this moment. Kiku is a wise, little guru. And now the action is being forced to advance quicker, despite how ready Arthur may or may not be. More of you may be able to guess what's going on with Arthur's past, but a detailed version of it will come later, after the end of this fic. **

**Speaking of which, I believe this will end soon, though I make no guarantees. I don't have the chapters planned out, by any means. They do what they want as long as they go in the right direction. I know what else has to happen, but I have no idea at all about how long it will take. Stay tuned and I'll tell you when we're getting really close, don't worry.**

**And I must apologize again, for I will most likely only be updating once this week once again. I was sick literally all week because of a sinus infection and it's still kicking my ass, despite my antibiotics' best efforts. I don't know what that means for next weeks updates, mostly due to the fact that I now have two weeks to catch up on an entire week of missed school. Should be loads of fun. I still love this story and I absolutely intend to finish it. You'll just have to be patient with me while I recover and all that jazz.**

**Please review and thanks for reading!**


	22. Bad Wolf

Chapter 22. Bad Wolf.

Alfred knelt on the roof of the target building. It was the middle of the night, yet the building was bursting with life, it was a party. Some of the richest in the country were there to celebrate…something. Maybe a birthday or something. It was somewhat windy, but nothing that would badly affect them. Alfred glanced at the person there with him, who was just standing, looking down at the party guests still coming into the party.

"So, what are we doing here?" Alfred asked. He hadn't been told what this mission was going to be. A few hours ago, Arthur had called Francis into his room and then Francis came out, telling Lovino something. Next thing Alfred knew, he was being dragged into the night onto a mission he knew nothing about.

"Well, dumbass, we're going to cause some trouble," Lovino rolled his eyes. "It's a party, right? Let's go ahead and have some fun."

"Why?" Alfred asked. This didn't make sense. They had a week before they had to move towards the capital and try to take it. Half of Alfred's original team was still there, ready to take them down. They should be focusing on that, for crying out loud.

"I'll make it simple," Lovino groaned. "Everyone knows we're going to do something. Your fucking king is sitting around and waiting for us to make our move against him. We have to shift focus, make it look like we're doing something else. These are simple missions, too. Two thirds of the bastard-trio is doing the same thing somewhere else, along with both of the lug head brothers. We make it look like we're going after nobility instead, shake the foundation up from the bottom. Then we can distract everyone in the capital enough to maybe make another dent in that team of yours."

"It's not exactly my team anymore," Alfred muttered.

"Whatever," Lovino scoffed. "We've got some time, we should wait until the party's in full swing…So…what the hell did you do to our big, bad leader to make him sulk? I've never seen him like that."

"I didn't do anything," Alfred said simply.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Lovino snorted.

"Why are you suddenly so open with me?" Alfred asked. "Last time I checked, you were still moping."

"I've got every fucking right to mope, you shit head," Lovino snapped at him. "I'm still fucking pissed. But the way I see it, I'm not going to accomplish anything going after the wrong guy. You may look like the jackass that killed Feliciano, but you're not him."

"You want to kill Matthew?" Alfred blinked up at him and Lovino nodded resolutely.

"No order or any other assassin's gonna stop me," Lovino said. "I probably won't even fucking get the chance until we attack the capital. In that chaos, what can you do?"

"What do you think'll happen after that?" Alfred asked coldly.

"Who cares?" Lovino shrugged. "I'll have done my job for my brother."

"Kill my brother and I'll kill you," Alfred stated and Lovino was quiet for a short while. Eventually, though, he started to laugh. A small chuckle at first, but eventually Lovino stumbled away from the edge of the building to hold onto his stomach, he was laughing so hard.

"You…" Lovino took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "You really think…" Lovino laughed a little more. "I give a shit?"

Alfred just looked at him while Lovino collected himself, at least slightly. What did he mean? It was perfectly reasonable. Lovino was mad because Matthew killed Feliciano and he wanted to kill him. It only made sense Alfred would do the same if Lovino killed Matthew.

"Feliciano's all I fucking had," Lovino let out a barking laugh and Alfred blinked at him in surprise. "The reason I joined the military, the reason I left it, the reason I'm fucking here is because of him. He's gone. After I get my revenge, who gives a fuck what happens to me?"

"You're only living for one person?" Alfred asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Go ahead and look in the mirror, genius!" Lovino laughed. "You've lived your whole life for that fucktard of a king and look where it got you. Sure, I guess the revolutionaries have good ideas and I guess this country sucks. But what's the point? My brother's gone. Like I'd actually live very long without him here anyway." Lovino scoffed and glanced down at the partygoers. Alfred would have never guessed that Lovino's connection to Feliciano was so strong. From what Alfred had seen, Lovino nearly hated him, shouting at him any chance he had and getting mad at him. But was Feliciano all Lovino really cared about? "Let's really get this party started, huh? Don't worry, no orders to kill anyone, just cause some ruckus. Maybe I'll kidnap someone, I guess we'll find out, huh?"

Alfred gritted his teeth, but stood anyway, his gun secure in his hand. He had six shots. Still. No new gun or ammo was offered to him. Like he was getting anything from Lovino anyway. Lovino happily jumped down the ledge, though Alfred could definitely sense that he was holding back his emotions. His smile was tainted with pain. He wasn't mad, but he definitely wasn't happy or content. He just needed to vent and this was his way of doing it. Alfred stood and followed after him, but quickly found that he had lost track of the assassin in the shadows. Right, he and Feliciano were able to sneak up on even him. Surely, Lovino could do this much.

Alfred stayed in the shadows, not going near very populated areas. He had to wait for Lovino to move first. Alfred had no idea what the plan was and Lovino obviously had no intention of sharing. That was when Alfred saw him, near the ceiling. Lovino matched his gaze and then looked to the chandelier. The building had a few floors, though there was a hole in every floor, big enough for a gigantic chandelier that hung at the very top of the ceiling. Lovino wanted to shoot it down.

Alfred sighed and pulled out his own gun as well, pointing it at where the chain connected with the ceiling. He glanced at Lovino and saw that he was ready. Lovino showed him three fingers, then two, then one. They fired simultaneously and all of the partygoers stopped at once, several of the women screaming. The chandelier disconnected and plummeted to the ground and the glass crashed. The chandelier was a major source of light and so now most of the building was shrouded in shadow, giving Alfred more of a chance to move.

Sadly, the second he started to move, he heard someone running right towards him. Alfred ducked down, trying to roll out of the way, and he heard a sword slice into the wall next to him. Alfred gritted his teeth. So this guy was fighting with as sword? That made his life a lot easier, this way he wouldn't waste any bullets. Alfred quickly took a few steps back, storing his gun in the back of this pants. He couldn't see the person in front of him very clearly due to the darkness, but he could see the two, red swords in the man's hands. Alfred moved his arms in front of himself, allowing the swords to come out. What was this person doing here? Who were they? This was meant to be a calm, easy mission, right?

The person in front of him didn't hesitate to run forward and try to slice at Alfred. Alfred blocked the man's sword with his own and he quickly tried to slice at the man, or where he expected him to be, with his other sword. The man blocked him easily, with a speed that Alfred had only seen a few times before. He was starting to recognize the person he was fighting.

A gunshot rang out and the man stepped back to avoid it. Alfred's eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness around him. The man in front of him was definitely familiar, especially the way he was holding his swords. He was small, but definitely not weak.

"Kiku," Alfred nodded to him and Kiku nodded in return. What was he doing there? Did the king know about them and their plans? Was there a mole? What did this mean? Lovino fired another shot and Kiku moved forward this time, moving both of his swords to swipe at Alfred's left side. Alfred blocked him well enough, allowing the swords in his legs to come out as well as he tried to swipe at Kiku's legs. Kiku jumped over his leg easily enough, slamming his heel hard into one of Alfred's legs. Alfred winced as he felt the metal tug at his body where it was connected, but swung his arm at Kiku once again to get the man off of him. Another shot and Kiku ducked down, out of the way. "Why are you here?"

"I can ask you the same question," Kiku said simply. Alfred gritted his teeth. Alfred moved first this time, attacking Kiku with a flurry of swipes from his swords. Kiku was able to dodge most of them, though one swipe got close enough to break some of the skin on his cheek, though it wasn't a deep cut at all. Kiku kicked away Alfred's arms after a short while, stumbling backwards slightly before running forward and trying to slice at Alfred's stomach. Alfred dodged backwards and Lovino fired another shot, forcing Kiku to take a step back as well. "It seems you two have me outnumbered."

Something was off here…Alfred narrowed his eyes. Kiku was moving too easily. Alfred ran forward and tried to slice at Kiku's chest and Kiku moved backwards slightly, blocking Alfred easily. This wasn't like how they usually sparred. Kiku was holding back. Why?

"Seems that way," Alfred muttered as Kiku…waited. He was waiting for Alfred to make the first move, huh? Alfred stepped forward and Kiku stepped backward. Lovino fired another shot, but he had moved since his last shot. Lovino was closer to them now. Kiku stepped backwards again. He was close to a window. "Quit playing me. Why are you here?"

"How are you going to make me answer that question?" Kiku asked simply. This close to the window, there was some moonlight shining through and Alfred could see the small smile on Kiku's face.

Lovino fired two more shots, both aimed at Kiku's swords. Kiku dropped them, feigning surprise rather well.

"It seems you have me outmatched," Kiku said simply, backing up to the window. Alfred narrowed his eyes at him. Kiku nodded to him and swiftly ducked out the window. Alfred ran over to it, only to see Kiku's figure running off in the distance, disappearing in the shadows of a nearby building.

"Fuck yeah!" Lovino cheered happily behind Alfred. "Made him take off running! We can easily take one at a time!"

"Yeah…" Alfred muttered, looking after him. "We should head back to Arthur. To see how the others did."

"Eh, I bet it was quiet," Lovino shrugged. "Just a coincidence he showed up, right?"

"I don't think so," Alfred shook his head.

* * *

"Even Lovino's willing to sit next to him for a few minutes," Gilbert rolled his eyes from where he was lounging on top of a building. A party was in full swing below them, but Gilbert wanted to wait for the perfect moment. They were supposed to cause chaos, make it seem like they were shaking things up from the ground up. Distract the king. Easy jobs. Only teams of two.

"I do not want to talk about this with you, Gilbert," Ludwig huffed.

"Whatever," Gilbert groaned. "But you aren't going to keep your emotions bottled up inside of you forever. And you know it."

"I have nothing to bottle up," Ludwig stated.

"Liar," Gilbert stated. "Try talking about it. Just once. Maybe it'll help."

"I don't need help," Ludwig said.

"Yeah?" Gilbert snapped. "And what happens if I say his name? What then?"

"Don't," Ludwig glared at him.

"And how would Feli react if he saw you moping around forever?" Gilbert asked and Ludwig visibly flinched. He looked down, his face growing dark. "Stop it. You wanna remember him? Remember him happy for crying out loud. What would he say if he saw you acting like his because he was gone?"

"Please, Gilbert," Ludwig muttered. "You don't…you don't understand."

"No?" Gilbert scoffed. "No? Please. I felt that loss, too. I broke my cover because of it. You don't think I'm torn up about it, too? But I remember Feli by that smiling happy face that wanted everyone to look on the bright side. And what are you doing? Ignoring his wishes, that's fucking what."

"I can't do anything else, Gilbert!" Ludwig yelled at him and Gilbert glanced down at the party. No one had noticed. "I try to think about him like that and I…"

"Talk about it," Gilbert pressed. "You need to. Hell, I told Franny and Toni all about Birdie. It helps, no matter how much it hurts. That's why I'm here, right? Your big older brother? I'll laugh at you while you're down, but I'll always help you back up."

"We should get moving," Ludwig said, standing up.

"Don't drop this," Gilbert said, standing up as well.

"We should get moving," Ludwig repeated himself. "This is no place to talk. We can try later."

"Now that's more like it," Gilbert smirked as Ludwig jumped down to the next ledge easily. Gilbert followed him and glanced into a window. A bunch of prissy rich people, perfect. He had to look for an opening, some way to cause chaos. It was a quick mission. Duck in, duck out, no harm done to anyone, but the king thinks they're up to something. Gilbert bit his lip and moved further down the ledge, going towards a corner to get a better vantage point from a different window. Just as he reached the corner, however, he was met with a gun staring right at his face.

"Don't move," a familiar voice warned and Gilbert all but froze.

"Birdie?" Gilbert whispered out. Matthew's cold, indigo eyes stared at him from the other end of the gun. What the hell was he doing there? How did he know?

"Gilbert, duck!" Ludwig shouted and Gilbert acted on instinct, dropping down to the next ledge. Two shots rang out loudly and Gilbert winced. The partygoers started screaming. That was one way to do this. Gilbert looked up at the two and saw that neither of them had any wound on them, they had both managed to dodge. Gilbert nodded and ducked into the nearest window, knocking over some nobleman, but Gilbert honestly couldn't have cared less at that point. Gilbert moved to the center of that floor, where most of the party was, though there were quite a few people upstairs, and he pointed his gun to the ceiling. He fired three shots and everyone surged for the exits. Matthew wanted to fight? Well, Gilbert wasn't going to let anyone else get hurt while they dealt with their business.

"Come on down, Birdie!" Gilbert shouted and he saw Matthew duck into a window just seconds before Ludwig followed. Both brothers pointed their guns at Matthew, who just glanced between them. "Is it just you? Who else is here?"

"Why should I tell you?" Matthew asked coldly and Gilbert shivered. He was definitely different. He was the cold-hearted murderer of Feliciano, who was betrayed by his brother and Gilbert. He was no longer the boy that was happy to be alive because of the king. He was a man that was alive for the king.

"So you're alone, then?" Gilbert smirked. He fired a few shots before dropping his gun and running towards Matthew. Matthew wasn't going to leave him alone anytime soon, he wasn't just going to drop it, which meant Gilbert couldn't hold back. If he did, he could risk dying himself. Gilbert pulled out the two knives hiding in his jacket sleeves as he ran towards Matthew, who was recovering from his dodge. Matthew easily blocked one of Gilbert's swipes with his gun. Ludwig fired a few shots and Matthew ducked just barely out of the way. Gilbert raised his leg and tried to kick at Matthew's legs, but the other assassin was faster. He always was. Matthew slammed his foot into Gilbert's knee that wasn't in the air, causing Gilbert to lose his balance and fall. Matthew went down with him, pinning him down and staying close, giving more of a risk to Ludwig. "So you do still wanna be close to me, huh?" Gilbert smirked and Matthew glared at him. There was no trace of the blush that normally would have risen out of him. Gilbert swallowed thickly.

"Release him," Ludwig ordered coldly and Matthew raised his eyes to study him for a moment.

"Or what?" Matthew asked. He easily used his arms to place Gilbert into a choke, but he didn't apply any pressure yet. What was he waiting for?

"You were the one that killed Feliciano, correct?" Ludwig asked and Gilbert winced. Bad choice. Matthew's eyes flickered slightly before a small smile appeared on his face. This wasn't good at all.

"Shame he couldn't get a proper burial," Matthew said. He was purpose fully egging Ludwig on.

"Don't listen to him," Gilbert muttered. Matthew added a little pressure, not enough to cut off airflow, but enough to make Gilbert shut up. Matthew was leaning down very close to him.

"Wonder what happened to the body," Matthew mused. "Burned, tossed to the forest, sunk to the bottom of a lake."

"Shut up," Ludwig growled. Gilbert took as deep of a breath as he could before he slammed his head into Matthew's, causing the assassin's grip to loosen on him. Gilbert rolled out from under him and Ludwig fired a shot. Matthew ducked out of the way easily, picking up the gun he had dropped, before aiming it at Ludwig.

"Don't let him make you mad," Gilbert snapped.

"He's not," Ludwig said simply. Gilbert glanced at his brother and for one found that he was telling the truth. His hand was steady, his face was stoic, his eyes clear. Gilbert nodded.

"Seems I'm outnumbered," Matthew said simply, backing up to the window. Gilbert narrowed his eyes. That had never stopped him before.

"You're not getting away," Gilbert said simply, pulling out another gun he had on him and aiming it right at Matthew's head.

"I know when I can't win," Matthew simply dropped the gun, along with another small object, a tiny bomb, if Gilbert remembered correctly. Gilbert immediately went to his brother, who didn't understand, tackling the larger man to the ground as far from the bomb as he could make it. Gilbert winced at the explosion, though the building remained sound and he glanced at the window, where the smoke was clearing. Matthew was long gone.

"Does that mean we've won?" Ludwig asked.

"I don't know," Gilbert muttered.

* * *

Matthew ran quickly. He knew he had to, not only to get away as quickly as possible from Gilbert, who was really testing that façade he put up, but also to get to the next location. Ivan had suspected something and sent Matthew, Kiku, and Roderich to three simultaneous parties going on that night with the nobility. It was a popularity content no one had won. But Ivan was right, at least where Matthew was concerned. Gilbert and Ludwig had been at the party he was staking out. And he did exactly as he was told. Confuse them and make it look like they're winning. After all, their goal was most likely to cause chaos as no one important was at the parties. Matthew had even helped them cause chaos. How would Arthur react to this, then?

Matthew did run, however, as quickly as possible, to the party Roderich was assigned to. They had no idea who had killed Elizabeta, which meant Roderich might want revenge on all of the members of this revolutionary team. If there were revolutionaries at the party Roderich was at, that could only mean something bad. Matthew had to stop him before he did something dangerous.

Matthew only ran faster when he saw the lit up building and heard the screams. He could also hear gunshots and so he pulled out one of his several guns that he had left. He just had to hope that Alfred wasn't there now. He noticed as he ran up to the building that Kiku was also on his way, having finished his own assignment. Kiku ran into the open door, left open from the evacuating nobility, and Matthew followed him soon after.

Matthew nearly sighed with relief when he saw that the revolutionaries there were Francis and Antonio. The bad thing, however, was the fact that Roderich was not allowing them to win, not by a long shot. He was angry, and firing his gun, not allowing them to get close, but also firing to kill. The opposite of the orders the king had given them.

"Roderich!" Matthew snapped, but the man didn't appear to hear him. Matthew gritted his teeth and ran forward, avoiding any stray bullets from the other two that they actually managed to get out, before shoving Roderich roughly. "Roderich! Do you remember the king's orders?"

"Clearly," Roderich looked him in the eye for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the other two. Matthew took a tight grip of Roderich's left wrist, pointing his gun upwards.

"Do you remember what I said?" Matthew snapped at him as he struggled to keep Roderich's arm up. Kiku was fast to take his other arm. Matthew could clearly see the two revolutionaries run for it as fast as they could, clearly confused. "If you do not get a grip, I will not hesitate to kill you myself!"

"Then go ahead and kill me!" Roderich snapped.

"How will you get your revenge, then?" Matthew asked, tossing Roderich's arm down. Roderich pointed his now free hand right at Matthew's chest. Matthew didn't even flinch. "How do you expect to show Elizabeta that you cared about her death if you're dead? What can you accomplish like that?"

"I could…" Roderich dropped both of his arms, looking at the ground, and Kiku stepped back. "I could see her again."

"Then see her again once you've gotten proper revenge," Matthew snapped. "And when it's okayed by the king. His orders tonight were to confuse and not engage seriously. I thought you understood that. If you keep this up, I won't allow you to get your revenge."

"You can't stop me," Roderich glared at him.

"Try me," Matthew said.

Roderich pulled his gun back up and fired a shot. Matthew dodged it easily. Kiku attempted to hold him back, trying to loop his arms around the man's shoulders, but Roderich was fighting back too much. He fired a few more shots at Matthew, who dodged all of them. The last shot that rang out, however, was followed by a different sound. Rather than hearing it clatter to the ground, it struck into something. Something soft. There was a small grunt and then a scream of someone else.

Matthew carefully turned around and saw that a nobleman was on the ground just outside the door, a hole straight through his head.

"You just _killed _a civilian," Matthew snapped. "Are you proud of yourself?"

"He shouldn't have gotten so close anyway," Roderich said simply, ripping his arms out of Kiku's grip, as the other man was too shocked to hold on tightly. "Go ahead, tell the king."

"Where did your loyalty go?" Matthew growled. "Don't tell me you're dropping this team just because of what happened?"

"You don't understand!" Roderich shouted.

"I don't understand?" Matthew yelled right back. "I've lost my brother and Gilbert to this! You think I don't know what loss is?"

"Elizabeta is dead, not just gone," Roderich growled. "I will stay with the king, as that is the best means for me to get my revenge on the people that took her down."

"What kind of loyalty is that?" Matthew snapped.

"We should all calm down," Kiku said simply. "Wait until morning to report to the king, Matthew." Kiku locked eyes with him and Matthew nodded. "We all need some sleep. Let's go back."

"I won't be sleeping," Roderich muttered darkly, walking ahead of them.

* * *

**Well, well, another long chapter! Look at me go! Anyway, this was fun to write, I really enjoyed all that went on here, with everyone's interactions and everything. Roderich is slowly crumbling, but the other people that are dealing with loss are doing…a little better. We got a small glimpse at Lovino here, finally. And I'm hoping to crack Ludwig open soon, too, because he's been a loner in the background for far too long! Anyway, fighting scenes are hard, but these were fairly fun to do, especially because half of the fighters, weren't actually full on fighting, which was cool to do. And Roderich's part was lovely as always.**

**Anyway, thanks so much to all of the people giving me get well soon, wishes! They meant so much to me. And please review! And I'll see ya next time!**


	23. Caged Bird

Chapter 25. Caged Bird.

Alfred panted as he kept up with Lovino, following him through various turns through back streets and around buildings. Soon enough, they came back to the revolutionary town, where everyone had long gone to sleep. Lovino didn't so much as slow down and kept running, right for their temporary house. He wasted no time slamming the door open, into the dark house. Arthur was waiting, however, on the couch in the living room with his laptop sitting in front of him.

"What the fuck?" Lovino snapped as Arthur looked up at them calmly. "They knew we were coming? Did you know about that?"

"Who knew?" Arthur asked carefully.

"Kiku was there," Alfred reported, still just slightly breathless from the run. His legs were complaining and it hurt slightly. He couldn't do any maintenance on them without the proper equipment and he knew they were growing bad. When would he get a chance to get new prosthetics, anyway? Arthur's eyes widened in surprise at the news.

"They knew we were coming?" Arthur muttered, standing up to meet them. "How could they have known? Are the others alright?"

"Can't hear 'em over the headset," Lovino shook his head. "I don't know what happened, the bastards must have sent out a shockwave of some kind to knock out the headsets."

"They fucking knew," Gilbert panted behind them and Alfred turned around to see the two brothers walking in, seeming equally as tired as them.

"Who did you get?" Alfred asked.

"Matthew," Gilbert sighed, glancing at the ground. "He's a lot more collected now, that's for sure. But he ran away."

"Kiku did something similar," Alfred said and turned to Arthur, who looked at the four of them in interest. "He fought, but definitely not seriously, and then he ran for it. He could have won; he and I both know that."

"That was him holding back?" Lovino snapped. "And you weren't?"

"I haven't exactly had the time to keep up my skills," Alfred countered. "Kiku at least has had to chance to spar with someone and sharpen his abilities even more."

"That's not important now," Arthur said. "We need to wait for the other two, see if they encountered the same thing."

"Not even close," Antonio muttered. Alfred looked to the door again and found, this time, Antonio and Francis, heavily bruised and beaten, leaning on each other for support.

"Roderich," Alfred muttered.

"Shit," Gilbert rushed forward with Ludwig, both of them helping the two beaten teammates to the couch and helping them sit down.

"What happened?" Arthur pressed. Obviously the two were okay to talk, so this wouldn't press them. Alfred sighed. He could guess. He hadn't expected Roderich to act this…erratic about Elizabeta's death.

"He was crazy," Francis shivered slightly. "He pinned us in a corner and didn't even care if he shot civilians around him." Alfred frowned. The king had clearly told them to never kill someone who was innocent, never someone who wasn't a target, to eliminate chaos as well as cover-up.

"And then the other two showed up," Antonio said. "They…yelled at him. He wasn't going according to plan."

"I believe I heard Matthew telling him as we left that he was to not engage us seriously," Francis shook his head.

"How did you get out with all three of them there?" Gilbert asked. Alfred wondered the same thing as well. What was the king thinking, having them act like this? What kind of plan did this involve?

"They stopped him for us," Antonio hung his head. "Matthew and Kiku held him back, they didn't even look at us. We ran while we had the chance." Was this really the king's plan? He wouldn't create a plan where the goal was to confuse them, run away from them. Or was he just desperate? If he knew where they would be, did he know that they would attack in about a week?

"This doesn't make sense," Alfred muttered.

"These are not the movements of a man that fought for the original revolution," Arthur muttered, talking mostly to himself. "When he was a military leader, all of his plans were straight forward and never involved cowardice and running away…"

"Someone else is calling the shots," Alfred said and everyone else in the room looked up at him. "This isn't the king's orders. He has to be…busy with something. Especially with Roderich being allowed to act this way, Ivan isn't…in charge."

"I know how to deal with Ivan," Arthur sighed heavily, crossing is arms over his chest. "However, I can't deal with someone I don't even know. Do you know anyone that could be doing this?"

"No," Alfred shook his head.

"The only person I've even _seen_ in that capital building that could call shots was him," Gilbert muttered.

"Are you sure about this?" Lovino asked Alfred.

"I know my king," Alfred said sharply. "He would never do something like this. But considering those three went along with this plan, he must have ordered it."

"There's no way to meet the other leaders in time to tell them about this," Arthur shook his head. "We will need to work with what we have. I had hoped that this would have worked better."

"If the plan was to cause chaos, then this was successful," Ludwig said simply. Arthur blinked at him. "They helped us cause chaos at our parties."

"Even more proof that this wasn't Ivan's plan," Arthur shook his head.

"I believe, at this point," Francis sighed heavily, "it would be best if we all just went to sleep."

"I don't even think I can stay awake for much longer, anyway," Antonio sighed.

"Are you all sure no one followed you?" Arthur asked.

"The only dumbass that followed me is right here," Lovino scoffed and Gilbert and Francis both shook their heads.

"Then sleep," Arthur said with a wave of his hand. "Alfred, stay here," he ordered as the others moved, Gilbert and Ludwig helping Francis and Antonio to their rooms first.

"What?" Alfred asked him bluntly once all of the doors had been closed.

"I apologize for what happened," Arthur sighed. Alfred knew immediately what he was talking about. He was talking about the chains. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

"Glad to see you recovered so nicely," Alfred said simply.

"Only two people in this group know," Arthur said simply. "I haven't a clue as to how Francis figured it out, but you are the only other one. The other leaders in charge of the revolution know as well and that is it. No one else alive knows this secret, do I make myself clear?"

"Is that all this is about?" Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Allow me to apologize, you…" Arthur struggled to find the right word, "…you, prat."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Alfred said harshly, though he did truly mean it. "What, do you think you really need to apologize? The only thing you did wrong was be a hypocrite, but that's it. It's not your fault."

"I…" Arthur stopped himself. He let out a deep sigh, running his hand through his hair. "It wasn't entirely unpleasant. What happened before I…"

"I get it," Alfred gave a small smile. "But it never happened, right?"

"Of course," Arthur said, straightening out his clothes. "You should rest, you'll need it. Who knows when you'll get the opportunity again."

"Will you be staying up?" Alfred asked, not so much as twitching where he stood.

"I need to," Arthur sighed. "I have to think of something to do next. We can't just sit around forever."

"Then I'll stay up with you," Alfred said.

"Go to sleep, Alfred," Arthur sighed, sitting down on the couch and looking at his computer screen once again.

"I've gone longer without sleep," Alfred smirked, sitting down, though not beside Arthur.

"Prat," Arthur scoffed, but continued to work, anyway.

* * *

Matthew took a deep breath as he walked forward, towards the door. This was it. They had been given their assignment as a sort of note, as the king was, evidently, incredibly busy working with the revolutionaries. They did manage to have spies on their own (how Matthew didn't know about them, he had no idea) and they were able to figure out where they would act. Matthew received the orders and they were signed by the king himself, Matthew recognized the signature. Despite the fact that the orders were…odd, he was more than willing to go through with them.

Now, he was to report to the king himself, the next morning. The mission was…in theory, a success. Naturally, he would have to tell the king about Roderich and how he had killed a civilian. An innocent civilian. There would be repercussions to that, no matter what.

The soldiers on either side of the doors opened them for him and Matthew stepped through, into the room. Ivan was sitting at his throne as always, though his head rested on his fist and he appeared to be about ready to fall asleep. Matthew's stomach was in knots. He took a deep breath as he stepped forward.

"The mission was a success," Matthew said simply. He decided to go with Kiku's original plan; don't kneel in front of him, treat him like a man, rather than a king. Ivan seemed…surprised, to say the least. He lifted his head and nodded to Matthew.

"Right," Ivan nodded. "Who was there? On the other side."

"For me, I saw Gilbert and Ludwig," Matthew reported. He found himself actually having trouble not referring to Ivan as 'Your Majesty', but he swallowed it for the time being. "Kiku saw Alfred and Lovino. Roderich saw Antonio and Francis. Arthur was nowhere to be seen."

"I see," Ivan nodded. "Did they follow any of you after you ran?"

"No, Y-" Matthew shook his head and bit his lip. He nearly messed up again. Ivan did appear to be interested, though, which was a good thing. He looked completely exhausted and Matthew was curious as to what he had been doing lately. "I must report to you, however, on Roderich's conduct on the field. He did not obey the orders of the mission and he shot a civilian."

"I see," Ivan said. He was quiet for a moment and Matthew allowed for him to think. "Were you able to find the name of the man he shot?"

Matthew smiled slightly. He respected Alfred's need to memorize the names and faces of those that they killed. After all, who else would remember them? Matthew had made sure he found out the identity of the man he had killed. He gave the name to Ivan, who seemed to recognize it and nodded.

"Good," Ivan nodded and Matthew blinked in surprise. "I was worried he had been an innocent civilian."

"Your…If you don't mind me asking," Matthew shook his head, overcoming his slipup once again. "How is he not innocent?"

"That is a rather long story," Ivan muttered. "He sold…interesting wares. Illegal to sell in public, though perfectly legal in private. I do not believe his wares are quite…stomachable. He was no loss to this society."

"Is there anything else you could tell me?" Matthew asked.

"This is not a matter you need to concern yourself with," Ivan held his hand up, shaking his head. "I do have a new job for your team, for the time being. If the revolutionaries really are moving as we expect they are, we will need to act quickly. I have a feeling I know of their next target. As you know, Yong Soo, Yao's old advisor has taken refuge with us, informing us about at least Yao's betrayal of this country. I will need you three to protect him for the next few days."

"What of your safety?" Matthew pressed. "If they will be acting soon-"

"As far as Yong Soo knows," Ivan said, cutting him off, "they don't plan on attacking now. He doesn't think the people involved can move that quickly, though I am doubting Merkatus can actually mobilize against us. In a few days, you three will focus your energy on the capital to keep the citizens and myself safe. Now, however, you should guarantee the safety of one of our best informants."

"Of course," Matthew nodded.

"You may go now, Matthew," Ivan nodded to him. "I will talk with you about Roderich's punishment for his actions later." Matthew smiled and turned towards the door. Just as he reached it and nearly pushed it open, however, Ivan stopped him with two simple words. "Thank you."

"I don't know what you're thanking me for," Matthew's smile grew as he left the room, leaving the king alone. Matthew bit his lip as he walked down the hallway. He stopped just before the doors, where there was another hallway intersecting the one he was currently in. There were computers further down that hallway…

Matthew quickly darted down, avoiding a few of the people and soldiers walking around. He quickly got onto the computer and the internet, using the codes Ivan had given him to access any information in their country he could get. The man that Roderich had killed…Ivan had been far too vague. Matthew searched his name and the man turned up easily in the search. Many people were mourning his death, though not allowing their work to be interrupted. Typing in a few, simple keywords, Matthew narrowed his search to his job and money. He worked as a merchant, though on the surface, it didn't say what he sold.

Matthew looked into his most recent business deals. A shipment of fairly large size coming in from the…coast? He had paid a hefty price to ensure the safety of the packages. They sure weighed a lot, too. Matthew tracked his latest business transaction to another wealthy nobleman, lavishly rich. Matthew turned back to the original subject of his search. He looked through the list of his servants and found nothing odd…He looked through the list of his belongings. Naturally, everything was to be recorded during this time of need, what with the revolutionaries breathing down their necks. That was when Matthew found something strange in the list of belongings. A name.

James.

Matthew clicked on it, as that would normally turn up an image of the object, taken by the owner in the best condition possible. It was a man, with bags under his eyes deeper than Ivan's and incredibly thin arms and legs. Matthew stared in shock for a short while before he looked through more of the man's belongings. There were more names. All of them were similar to that man. No last names, just first ones. It hardly looked like they had souls inside of them at all. Were they…slaves?

Matthew looked further into the latest business interaction and found that it was three…objects. Three names, all women.

"What?" Matthew sat back slightly, shaking his head. Ivan had said that it was…legal in private. Slave trading? In this country? But…

That was when it hit Matthew. Elizabeta had never been able to find Arthur. She was looking through people. Maybe…

Matthew decided to try with what he had right then, he might get lucky. He opened up all of the business interactions this dead man had when he was alive. There were enough to make Matthew sick. Surely the king had a reason for making something like this legal, surely there was a good reason for this. Still, Matthew was able to guess Arthur's age based on the information Alfred had given him and was able to narrow his search down to those years. And then he found it.

Arthur. A five year old boy. Nineteen years ago. Matthew carefully opened the picture, though the quality was far from good. It was a perfect, smaller version of the image of Arthur they all had. Flat, blonde hair, dead green eyes, loose fitting clothes that betrayed many, many bruises. Matthew let out a small breath. He was a slave…How did he get out of it?

Matthew continued his search, to the man that had bought Arthur. There was no movement from the man for…years. Then, fourteen years ago, when Arthur was ten, he was sold once more. He looked no stronger than the last image Matthew had seen, just slightly taller. He was unhealthily thin, and his eyes were not only dull, but…afraid. Of what would happen if he were to so much as twitch in this picture. The clothes were still loose and the bruises were black, blue, yellow…fingerprints. The boy looked about ready to cry any second. That didn't sound anything like the leader Alfred had told them about for this revolutionary group.

He was sold to a woman, interestingly enough. A woman of the name Kirkland. Matthew remembered that face. Roderich's first kill on their team…All those years ago. Arthur was listed among her belongings…but the manor stayed up and running for…years after the woman of the house died, despite only servants and a slave remaining. When the house disappeared, so did Arthur.

Matthew pushed away from the computer, the chair scraping against the ground, though not attracting any attention to him. He had found Arthur, but he had also found out a secret he didn't know this country had. The king…allowed slavery? Why? He had to have a reason, but this was something vile and horrible. The king was not a man to allow such a thing, why did he allow this? Matthew felt his hands shaking as he closed out of the computer, erasing all evidence that he was there at all. To everyone but him, Arthur was going to remain a mystery. He didn't exist. He was just like Alfred and Matthew.

* * *

Ivan sighed happily as he watched Matthew leave. It was just like old times…a child unafraid of his title, willing to talk to him like a human being. It was nice. And he at least received some good news. Alfred was alive and still able to fight back Kiku, whether or not he was fighting seriously. And a man that had traded slaves for money was dead. By Roderich's hand. Ivan's hands were free of this, it was an accident. What could the nobles in charge honestly say against him? How was this his fault when it was their horrible plan? Don't engage seriously? Run away? Make them think they had won?

Alfred and Gilbert would look through that in an instant. They both knew when the team was fighting to the fullest extent.

"Your Majesty," the doors opened and a voice said calmly. Ivan's smile dropped. The noblemen filed in and Ivan sighed, leaning back heavily in his chair as the doors closed, leaving him alone with the real leaders of the country. "I am sure you have heard the news that one of your lackeys has killed a very influential man."

"I have," Ivan said simply. "I will be punishing him as I see fit. I have told them all clearly that they are not to kill civilians."

"Good," another nobleman said stiffly. "He was rich and now his money has fallen to two children and his wife. Not to mention the amount of merchandise he still had yet to sell…"

"Were you intending to buy from him?" Ivan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Your Majesty," a nobleman laughed. "You do not intend to think that my wife or I would stoop to mere housework when I can simply purchase something to do it for me."

"Of course," Ivan said through clenched teeth. Slavery in itself disgusted him, but it wasn't his choice to make. It never was. What the nobles wanted went, after all. They wanted slavery? They got it, Ivan merely held it back by only permitting it in private. "Anything else you wish to speak of with me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," another nobleman said simply, stepping forward. In that moment, Ivan's small phone buzzed slightly in his pocket. With interest, he pulled it out, motioning for the man to continue. "We cannot simply rely on Yong Soo's information on this matter. We must act swiftly, attack them first."

"Do you know of their location?" Ivan asked with interest. He was experienced with this; battle strategies. That was his area of expertise. He looked at his phone, however, and his interest piqued. Someone had used his codes to access the internet. He was informed of it every time, he even knew the location. Alfred had used it not too long ago, but of course he had never told anyone of that. This was Matthew, looking into the man that Roderich had killed. Interesting. What would he find?

"No," a nobleman said, flustered.

"Then how do you intend to attack them?" Ivan sighed.

"Then what is your suggestion, Your Majesty?" a noble sneered at him. "We wait for them to attack while we're defenseless?"

"Are we defenseless?" Ivan asked simply. Matthew had discovered that the man owned slaves. That was rather quick, now wasn't it? "We have soldiers, we have my three, and I do know how to fight, as you all know."

"We would never ask our king to fight for us," a noble bowed his head.

"Naturally," Ivan rolled his eyes. "You do what you want, you always do." Matthew had connected something about this man and the past, now that was interesting. What was he looking into? "You know what is best, after all, don't you?" Ivan smirked and the nobles glared at him.

"We can't wait for the armies of the countries around us to move, we can't fight against that," a nobleman said simply. "We need to attack the revolutionaries within our country first."

"They are protected by the armies of the surrounding nations," Ivan said clearly. "You do not have the luxury anymore to act freely. That is an assumption you seem to keep." Ivan knew about battle strategies, he had used them, failed with them, won with them. He had created them. These nobles had done none of that and it was time to educate them. "You had the opportunity to do what you want in the past, but you insisted that you were safe and did nothing. It is too late now and that is due to no other fault than your own. Your only option is to wait, give yourself the home field advantage, and win from there. Surely you know your side is best, naturally, and so the people will rally with you, if you are so confident about that. This is no different than what happened years ago when we took power, we are simply the ones protecting."

"Times have changed since that day," a noble scoffed.

"Yes, rather than simple babies crying in their cribs, we have assassins," Ivan rolled his eyes. "They have assassins as well. Rather than someone like me in charge of the revolution, they have Arthur, a mystery man with no origin. There is still a king on this side and you may use this puppet how you will, but if you intend to live, do as I say. Wait."

"Of course, your majesty," a nobleman said through clenched teeth. The nobles whispered amongst themselves as they left the room and Ivan rolled his eyes, looking back at his phone, which he nearly dropped with the new information he had seen. Arthur was a slave.

Well, that was certainly interesting.

* * *

**Whew, this chapter man. This chapter. Originally, Roderich just killed some guy, but then this fabulous idea bloomed in my mind and I love it! And, no, that guy (or the slave I named) was not a Hetalia character. It gives just enough glimpse into the past, but not giving too much away, and it wraps up that bit of skeleton in Arthur's closet, despite the fact that he really has no idea this happened. And Ivan's getting a bit of a backbone, how interesting. A little glimpse at his past as well. This is getting fun, guys. But I don't think we're that close to an end, really. I still have some important steps planned before the end, then we have all of the backstories and such.**

**Also, something funny I noticed, personally, from last chapter…I titled it Bad Wolf (and if people were paying attention from earlier chapters, they would know I'm basing all of these chapter titles on songs, this one from AWOLNATION) and a lot of people were making Doctor Who references. I loved them all, don't get me wrong, I just found the whole situation funny. As I was writing the chapter name, I was like "hmm. Maybe people will think of Doctor Who instead of the song." And I paused for a moment and then said "Nah, this is fine." This is also the first time people have actually shown that they look at the chapter titles, too, which is also funny in itself.**

**Anyway, don't mind me, I'm hyper and writing a lot since I haven't written much (not writing for two weeks in a row is killer on me!) so I'm going to stop talking. Please review!**


	24. Say Goodbye

Chapter 24. Say Goodbye.

Gilbert yawned heavily as he sat drowsily on the bed, glaring at the person that had woken him up so early. Predictably, Ludwig had already been up for an hour and a half, already gone for his run, and had gotten himself to look all neat and tidy once again. They sat in silence for a bit, Ludwig sitting on the desk chair, looking anywhere but at Gilbert. Gilbert yawned again.

"So, are we just gonna stare at each other, or can I go back to sleep?" Gilbert asked. Sure, he had been surprised when he was dragged out of his bed by his brother and then dragged into Ludwig's room, but he knew what he wanted to do. He thought about what they had talked about on the roof during the mission. He wanted to talk. Gilbert just wished he had wanted to talk when he was actually coherent.

"No," Ludwig finally looked him in the eye. He was lost. He had no idea where to start. It was rough enough that they had been separated for so long after hardly being separated in their past, it strained their relationship a little bit. And it seemed that Gilbert missed a little bit between Ludwig and Feliciano, but Francis and Antonio were able to fill him in well enough on that matter. "What is there to even say?"

"Look," Gilbert sighed. "Being sorry isn't going to get anyone anywhere. You gotta deal with the fact he's gone and he isn't coming back."

"This isn't like with mother and father," Ludwig muttered. Gilbert sighed. That had been hard on both of them, sure, but they had been kids. There was a lot of time to distance themselves from it. This was fresh in their heads.

"I'm not telling you to forget him or anything," Gilbert said. "But the longer you sulk, the more it's gonna suck. And the less able you're gonna be when it comes to these missions. You're lagging and holding back, no matter how much you train yourself. It's a mental thing. Feli can stay there, he sure as hell should, you should learn to smile more, just don't let him block anything." Ludwig had always been closed off emotionally. He wasn't going to cry during something like this, he was too strong. But Feli had made him act a little more…human. Feli made him smile, even when Gilbert couldn't, he could make Ludwig laugh slightly, get angry. And when Feli was gone, he did actually make Ludwig cry, just not in front of other people. Ludwig had been closed off since what happened when they were kids, it just shut him down emotionally. But the least Gilbert could do would be to try to open him up once again.

"How?" Ludwig asked simply. This was testing him, sure. He seemed like he was getting close to getting emotional. "I need to remember him, but that just…"

"It's hard," Gilbert shrugged and held back a yawn that threatened to come. "But you're pretty strong, right? There's still people right here that are alive, breathing. Look at us sometimes and I bet Feli'd be happy with that."

"Maybe," Ludwig muttered, looking down at the floor.

"What even went on between you two when I was gone?" Gilbert smirked. There were other ways for him to go about this. "Did you two finally manage to get out all of that sexual tension you had?"

"There was no such thing!" Ludwig snapped, looking up at him. Sure enough, a light blush dusted his face and Gilbert smirked victoriously. "You and your friends come up with the strangest theories, Gilbert."

"Yeah?" Gilbert laughed. "Well, you tell me, was there really nothing between you two?"

"He was a good friend," Ludwig sighed. "That is it."

"So you didn't get around to it," Gilbert said thoughtfully. "Guess that explains a few things."

"Like what?" Ludwig asked sharply.

"Oh, dude, if you couldn't tell he wanted in your pants you were fucking blind," Gilbert smirked and the blush on his brother's face grew significantly worse. "But I don't even think he really noticed it, either. The rest of us sure as hell did…"

"How, exactly, is this supposed to help me?" Ludwig asked carefully, coughing slightly when his blush wouldn't go away.

"He was a person," Gilbert pressed. "Just like the rest of us. People die. You can't get hung up on that. Sure, remember them and all of that shit, but look at the present, too, or you aren't going to see it. And only look on the bright side. You aren't getting anywhere sulking about times in the past."

"You say this as if it's easy," Ludwig said simply.

"Hey, I'm struggling with it, too," Gilbert shrugged. "I miss the shit out of Feli, I've missed him for over a fucking year now. But what the hell are you going to do by missing him? He believed in this group and the revolution to make things better, right? Then let's make sure things really do get better. We've got Arthur and all of the other country leaders helping us through, right?"

"Are you trying to motivate me now?" Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"I might be," Gilbert smirked. He had a few different tactics to go through. Thankfully, almost everyone else had gotten over Feliciano's death rather well on their own. Ludwig, even though he did experience loss before, was actually having a rough time on his own. Lovino was...alright on his own, he could at least handle himself. Both Francis and Antonio had grown rather used to the people close to him dying around them and Arthur worked insanely hard to not grow close to anyone. Gilbert was able to take his own advice and, sure, he was sad about it, but he also knew how to get over it rather quickly.

Ludwig chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "I have to go patrol," Ludwig eventually said, standing up and putting his jacket on, which would hide his guns.

"Yeah, yeah, go protect the innocent civilians," Gilbert sighed. "Thanks to you, I can't get back to sleep." He stood up and stretched his arms across his stretch as he yawned once again.

"I'm sure you'll get over it," Ludwig smiled as he left the room. Gilbert followed after him, nodding to his brother as he left out the front door. Gilbert glanced at the two still sitting on the couch. He had no idea what happened or how, but it was pretty funny. Arthur, naturally, stayed up for a long time trying to think up plans, but it seemed like he had managed to convince Alfred to stay with him. And, of course, they had fallen asleep and Arthur was actually leaning against Alfred. Gilbert smirked slightly. It was good to see both of them actually getting some sleep for once.

* * *

Arthur was…rather comfortable. He couldn't help but feel content and warm where he was. He really didn't want to move at all. He actually felt well-rested as he began to feel himself wake up as well, which was unusual. Normally, when he slept, if he slept, he was plagued by nightmares, but this time, his sleep was actually quite pleasant.

"Well, what do we have here?" Francis' voice immediately made Arthur open his eyes. He noticed immediately the position he was in, leaning up against Alfred on the couch. Alfred was awake just as quickly and Arthur pushed himself off of him and into a normal sitting position. He ignored the blush that spread furiously across his face as Francis laughed at them.

"Twat," Arthur muttered under his breath, swiftly picking up his still-open laptop from working so late into the night. He quickly walked to his room before Francis could give him even more shit about what he did while he was asleep. The second he closed his door, however, he let out a deep breath. The blush wouldn't go away, dammit.

He remembered Alfred deciding to stay up with him overnight and he remembered working, going through all of the information about the nobles and the capital as he could. He had to think of some way around Ivan and the rest of Alfred's old team. It certainly didn't help that one of them was more volatile now that one of their friends had died. He had to think of a plan, they only had a few days, there was no time for him to be distracted by small things like…waking up…cuddling with Alfred.

Arthur shook his head, sitting down at his desk. He had to focus, he couldn't be distracted. He opened his computer to continue searching, but an interesting article showed up. A noble had died the night before, no doubt the person Roderich had killed the night before. There was to be some kind of ceremony for him, at least whatever this country allowed as a ceremony. Curious, Arthur clicked on the article, just to see if there was something interesting to see. The man's name seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn't remember much of it. Finally, a picture of the man showed up. Arthur stared at it for a moment before he felt the familiar panic wash over him as he slammed the portable computer closed as hard as he possibly could, standing from the chair to get away from the memory as quickly as possible.

He was dead?

He figured he owed at least one thing to that group…

Arthur cleared his throat, straightening himself out, before he calmly stepped out of his room. It was no use opening that computer now that that face would be staring at him. He could at least be slightly efficient by doing something else somewhere else. Everyone was awake at this point and he could clearly hear them in the kitchen. At least, most of them. Lovino was lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling, apparently trying not to be pissed off at the four in the kitchen, at least Arthur figured Alfred was in the kitchen as he couldn't see him anywhere else. Ludwig was most likely out on patrols, as he usually was in the morning.

Arthur swiftly bypassed Lovino and entered the kitchen. Alfred was at the table, having a conversation with Antonio and Gilbert while Francis happily hummed to himself while he cooked. Arthur sighed and walked towards Francis, who simply glanced at him.

"Don't think I'm going to allow you to try cooking again," Francis said simply.

"He's dead," Arthur muttered, leaning against the nearest wall. Francis paused for a moment, barely reacting in time to move away the eggs he was making from the heat of the stove before they burned. Francis glanced back at him and Arthur took a deep breath in order to make sure his voice came out steady. "The man Roderich killed last night. He was a dealer."

"The first one?" Francis asked simply, glancing at him, though not looking for long.

"Yes," Arthur sighed. "A part of me is almost sad I couldn't kill him myself." And another part knew that his mind would shut down the second he even saw the man in person.

"And how are you doing with this news?" Francis asked him quietly. The three talking easily drowned out their conversation.

"I should be happy," Arthur muttered. "Right?"

"Should you be?" Francis asked him, finally turning to face him. Arthur sighed and looked at the ground. He typically tried not to think much about it, or else he would most likely shut down again, which he couldn't afford to do.

"Yes," Arthur shook his head.

"He was a part of your past, this is a rather big deal," Francis said. "I take it you found out because his funeral was in the news?"

"Yes," Arthur sighed. "His face hasn't changed at all…"

"Do you want to go?" Francis asked simply and Arthur glared at him. "It was only a question. He was a part of your past, I just figured it would be a good idea for you to at least say farewell to that part of you."

"Do you realize how…utterly…stupid that would be?" Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "I…He sold me. And I go to pay my bloody respects?"

"Don't pay respect," Francis shrugged. "Just get closure."

"I don't…need closure," Arthur scoffed.

"Then why are you talking to me about it instead of closing yourself in your room like you intended to do?" Francis smirked. "You can take Alfred with you if that will help you."

"What are you insinuating?" Arthur scoffed.

"It's your decision," Francis shrugged. "We do have a limited time until we are to attack the capital, correct? You should focus on strategies, correct? Or can you focus?"

"Don't start," Arthur rolled his eyes. "I figured I should have told you, don't think I actually intend to do anything about it."

"Of course," Francis chuckled, returning to the food he was making. Arthur sighed, turning to the three sitting at the table now. Of course he didn't want to go! What possible reason could Arthur have for going to the grave of one of the men that had…bought and sold him? What would he even do? Break down? He didn't have the time to waste on something stupid like that. He had to focus…

* * *

"You got lucky," Matthew sighed as Roderich just sat there. He had finally gotten Roderich's punishment from Ivan for killing that noble. All considering, it wasn't much. No doubt due to the fact that Ivan knew that the man Roderich had killed was a slave dealer. Matthew wasn't going to question it anymore, he was sure Ivan had his reasons for everything. Roderich, however, didn't seem as though he intended to go through with his due punishment. "I don't care about what side you are on, but the second you disobey an order from the king-"

"You'll kill me?" Roderich cut him off.

"You joined this team," Matthew said clearly. "You had your reasons and so you should obey the orders of your leader or you can leave and I will make sure I kill you, as a traitor to the king. Do I make myself clear?" Matthew wasn't quite used to being so harsh, but he had to in times like this. It wasn't an option of how he could do it, he had to. He was the leader now, he had to reign everyone in, for the sake of the king. "Kiku will continue our job of watching Yong Soo. You and I are going through with your punishment."

"If that will please His Majesty," Roderich said bitterly.

"Then get ready to leave," Matthew said coldly. "We're heading out in a few minutes."

Roderich simply nodded and Matthew stood from the table, walking into his own room. He was going to bring knives and guns just in case, of course. The king had told Matthew that Roderich was to go to the grave of the man he had killed and pay respects, though Matthew didn't think that the man deserved any respect, if he were to get any. The king had told them to go, and so Matthew was going to go, regardless of how he felt.

Having stored three guns and five knives around his body, he moved to the front door of the house. It was some time in the middle of the day and Kiku was busy with Yong Soo. Matthew and Roderich had been with him, though nothing had happened, like they expected, when they were both called away. Ivan had only wanted to talk to Matthew, Roderich waiting in their house.

Matthew only had to wait a few minutes before Roderich sauntered up to him and, without a word, the two left. Matthew walked beside Roderich in order to keep him within in his line of sight and also in order for Roderich to know where he was going, as he hadn't been told the location of the man's grave. His burial had been performed rather quickly before the day of work started and Matthew couldn't help but be oddly curious about what would happen to the man's slaves. Would they all just be given away or sold? Matthew took a deep breath, shaking the thoughts out of his head. He wouldn't get anywhere being mad at something he didn't understand, like slavery. The king had a reason for everything.

The walk through the capital was quiet. Everyone was working and all of the soldiers recognized the two, allowing them to pass and move about as they pleased. If they were lucky, they could get this whole thing out of the way as quickly as possible and get back to their job of protecting Yong Soo for the time being. Their best guess was that it would be up to a few weeks before the revolutionaries attempted to take the capital (according to Yong Soo) and so they all had to be ready to protect the king at a moment's notice.

The graveyard was a simple place, with only small stones to mark those of the dead. Matthew could tell that there was a little bit more to this punishment than just paying respects. Because of their position, their team of assassins would never land in a place like this. Not even Elizabeta. There were quite a few of these cemeteries around the city, each city, as they were just small plots of land. There were people there since the original revolution that created this country 22 years ago. Matthew stepped forward and through it, finding the stone with the familiar name. Matthew couldn't help but wonder just how many of the people in the graveyard...and the city had dealings with slaves. It would probably be impossible to tell.

Matthew finally found the name and looked at Roderich, who simply knelt to the ground with a small smirk on his face. He wasn't taking this seriously at all, was he? Matthew rolled his eyes and glanced around the city. It was normal for him to see it so empty. Usually, he just saw it empty at night, so this was slightly strange. There was a building nearby that was obviously recently abandoned, most likely due to lack of money. He narrowed his eyes at it and noticed, in the windows of the upper levels, something glinting in the sunlight. He pulled out one of his guns and aimed it carefully at the window, not looking away from it. He stared at it carefully.

This would not be the time to have an ambush, especially with the state of mind Roderich was in now. If Kiku was there, perhaps this would be a better time.

"Roderich," Matthew said carefully and saw something move in the window. Luckily, Roderich got the hint and stood up as well. Matthew was nearly surprised when neither of them was the first to shoot.

* * *

**And cliffhanger! This chapter was hard for me to write, mostly because I wanted to do character development for Ludwig and I'm very bad with his character and I've made him more emotionally stifled than he usually is, but that leads into his past and stuff. Anyway, I had a few problems with time recently, but I think I ironed everything out by now and everything is in its place, as it should be. So, all in all, stuff happened, and more stuff will happen next chapter, don't worry.**

**Also, important, I'm officially finished with school (though not IB Exams, single tear) and so that means I'll be able to write more. I don't promise anything, naturally, but I may be able to update more often than usual. So stay tuned!**

**Anyway, please review! It's great!**


	25. Things We Lost

Chapter 25. Things We Lost.

"Where are we going, again?" Alfred asked curiously as he followed Arthur through the shadows of the capital. He had no idea why they were there or what they were doing, though Arthur had only come equipped with a single pistol, so Alfred didn't think that it would be a serious mission.

"Hush," Arthur scolded him, hardly stopping long enough to look back at him. Alfred sighed slightly as he followed the man through the back streets. There were a few soldiers here and there but they avoided them easily enough. Arthur checked the streets every time they passed a sign, so that meant that they were going to a specific location.

"Where are we going?" Alfred pressed, but quietly.

"I don't have time to explain," Arthur said rather quickly, stopping short of a major street with soldiers patrolling it. Alfred huffed behind him, but looked ahead. There was a small gap when the soldiers turned and he reacted faster than Arthur, dragging him with him across the street. Arthur wasted no time walking ahead of him once again. Finally, they stopped in front of a street that separated them from…a graveyard?

"What is going on?" Alfred asked skeptically, though when he glanced at Arthur, who hadn't made a move to walk forward, he let out a sigh. Arthur looked…uncertain, almost scared. So this had something to do with his past, huh? "Arthur, I'm not gonna-"

"It's nothing important, don't worry," Arthur muttered and began to walk forward, though Alfred noticed something when he looked back, just to see if there were soldiers. People were walking right towards them. If they were walking in broad daylight, without the fear of being caught by soldiers…

"Arthur," Alfred said simply, gripping onto Arthur's wrist. Arthur glared back at him before attempting to wrestle his hand free. "Someone's here." Arthur got the message easily enough; they needed to hide. Alfred could easily spot a recently abandoned building nearby and both of them ran towards it. Alfred supposed he had caught sight of them before they could see him. Once they made it up to the top floor, Alfred pulled out his gun, just in case. Arthur did the same.

Eventually, two figures showed up and Alfred recognized them easily. Roderich and Matthew. What were they doing here?

"You know anything about this?" Alfred asked Arthur carefully. Arthur just stared ahead, watching them carefully. "Arthur."

"Hush," Arthur said and Alfred fought back a growl.

Alfred watched them quietly, keeping his gun level on them in case they moved too suddenly. Roderich knelt down at a grave and Arthur stiffened. Matthew stayed standing and looked around. Alfred flinched once Matthew's eyes locked on where they were.

Arthur sighed heavily as Matthew raised a pistol to their location.

"What now?" Alfred asked him. "Are you finally gonna talk?"

"Get down there," Arthur sighed. "You don't have many bullets left and you still have your swords. I can give you cover from here."

"You're telling me something when I get back," Alfred sighed, shaking his head as he swiftly ran back down the stairs. Arthur fired the shot first, oddly enough. Was he really that on edge? Matthew fired back, naturally as did Roderich. Alfred sighed as he reached the bottom floor and carefully looked through one of the windows that enabled him to easily see the graveyard from where he was. He needed some way to catch them off guard to give him the upper hand. What he would do once he got them into a fight, he had no idea. There was no telling if they were still on orders to not engage seriously and Alfred didn't even know what they were there for. This was definitely not a good place for him to be in.

Alfred fired a single shot from where he was, attracting Matthew and Roderich's attention long enough for Arthur to be able to fire a few more. His aim was shoddy at best, but it was getting the job done. It was obvious at least Matthew was ready to leave. Roderich, however, was putting Alfred on edge.

Alfred jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding a bullet from Roderich. Alfred gritted his teeth and ran forward, into the graveyard, hiding behind one of the small stones as cover.

"Roderich!" Matthew snapped and a bullet flew off in an odd direction. So Matthew was helping him now, huh? Matthew sounded very different from the last time Alfred had heard him. He was more collected now, apparently, and colder. "Cease fire and retreat!"

"Why should I?" Roderich scoffed. Arthur fired another shot and Alfred heard them move around. He glanced around the side of the stone he was hiding behind. Matthew was holding onto Roderich's arm, which held a gun, successfully holding back the weaker man. Matthew had even dropped his gun. Alfred stored his gun in his pants and stood up from the stone carefully, hands in front of him. He motioned for Arthur to stop his own shooting.

"Neither of us wants to fight, let's just go our separate ways," Alfred offered and Matthew met his eyes carefully before nodding.

Matthew attempted to lead Roderich away, but Roderich managed to wrestle his arm away from Matthew and aimed right at Alfred's head. Alfred reacted quickly, moving his arms in front of his face. The sparks that shot through his right arm as the bullet skated through coursed through Alfred's entire body and he felt the bullet nestle in his left arm. Alfred flinched when he tried to move his right arm and it refused to even budge. Alfred shoved his arm to the side with his left, attempting to ignore the pain that shot through his shoulder. He pulled out his gun once again and aimed right at Roderich's head. The man didn't even seem fazed by this, running right towards Alfred with his gun still pointed at him, ready to fire just waiting for a better shot, despite Matthew practically screaming at him. There was only one way out of this with the way Roderich was acting.

Alfred fired his gun once again, but Roderich's head moved just as Alfred's bullet skated him by. Alfred hadn't noticed the other gunfire that came from above until Roderich laid on the ground with a bullet through the side of his head. Alfred looked at Matthew, who stared at the scene with wide eyes. Sparks continuously shot into Alfred's shoulder and he winced, dropping his gun to hold onto his broken arm. Arthur ran down the stairs in a matter of seconds, standing beside Alfred with his gun pointed at Matthew.

"Why?" Alfred muttered.

"I'm never going to allow you to shoot a person you know," Arthur said simply. Alfred stared at his fallen comrade and he couldn't help but wonder why Matthew hadn't fled yet.

* * *

Matthew was more than shocked when Roderich finally managed to wrestle his arm away from him. Roderich was out of his mind with anger and seeing Alfred certainly didn't help. According to Roderich, Alfred was a part of the team that had killed Elizabeta and that was all that mattered. Roderich actually landed a good shot on Alfred, too, taking out Alfred's right arm as he went to protect himself. Matthew pulled another gun on Roderich, ready to fire if he needed to. Roderich had not been given permission from the king to kill Alfred. Alfred was ready to shoot as well as Roderich ran forward, but what surprised Matthew was not the fact that Alfred actually fired.

The surprise came from the shooter above, shooting Roderich directly through his head, making him drop to the ground. Alfred dropped his gun, either out of pain or surprise Matthew couldn't tell, and held onto his broken arm, staring at the scene in front of him. Matthew felt a little bit of panic. Alfred had just said that they didn't want to fight, yet Arthur came from the building with his gun pointed at Matthew, just in case. Matthew hadn't even wanted to fight and…and his own friend had fallen? Roderich hadn't even returned to himself yet, he had been blinded too much by his own rage…

Matthew dropped his gun, pulling out his others and his knives, dropping them on the ground as well. He met Alfred's eyes and his brother nodded, carefully moving to place a hand on Arthur's arm holding a gun. Arthur met his gaze for a fraction of a second with confusion. But Arthur dropped his own gun eventually and Alfred nodded to him.

With a heavy sigh, Matthew slowly made his way to the corpse of his friend. Matthew knelt down and closed his eyes, ensuring he didn't make sudden movements that would make Arthur shoot. There was no doubt the man was already jumpy, considering the fact that he was at the graveyard of the man that had bought and sold him years ago. Matthew hefted Roderich onto his back, ignoring the warm blood that trickled onto his neck. Alfred moved Arthur away from the entrance carefully as Matthew walked by.

"Thanks," Matthew muttered before looking at Arthur. "I don't know why you're here, there's no one to pay respects to." With that, Matthew took off running. He ignored the tears that had started to fall with the body on his back as he ran through the streets, ignoring the concern the soldiers around him showed. Some of them must have been attracted to the commotion, but Alfred and Arthur should have been long gone by now, if they were smart. Matthew shifted the dead weight on his back as he continued to run. He had no idea what he would do, but he couldn't leave another friend, that much he knew.

Roderich had been a good man, he just lost himself in the end, Matthew couldn't blame him for that. He had to do something. He had to ask Ivan for this one favor, after the king had done so much for him. He couldn't let Roderich be forgotten, not like Elizabeta, not even like Feliciano. No one should have to suffer like that.

* * *

Alfred cried out in pain as the shocks surged through his arm and into his shoulder, shocking his entire torso. His left hand gripped hard onto his right shoulder, his right arm left on display on the table in front of him. Arthur flinched as he watched. Alfred's arm was shot clean through, shooting out sparks through the hole and Alfred was in pain. He never showed pain before, but this must have been incredibly painful, making him scream as he was. Francis was good with technology, yes, but this was advanced. The second they made it through the door of their hideout, Francis had Alfred take off his usual, long-sleeved shirt that hid most of his prosthetics and forced him onto the couch, Alfred's right arm on the little table. Gilbert had quickly gotten his tools.

Francis was hard at work, trying to fix the wires, each little movement forcing electricity through Alfred's system and resulting in another scream from the man. Alfred's right hand still had yet to move.

"For God's sake, Francis, can't you do this any better?" Arthur snapped as Alfred bit his lip so hard it drew blood after just a second.

Francis sent him a small glare before he continued to work as quickly as he could, Alfred jolting every once in a while, but keeping his right arm still as possible.

"What the hell even happened?" Gilbert pressed and Arthur finally tore his eyes away from Alfred. "Where did you even go?"

"It was to stake out the capital," Arthur muttered, knowing Francis was too busy to make any comments about the lie. Arthur had been stupid, in reality. He had gone to see the grave of the person that had first owned him. And taken Alfred as a guard, but more people than necessary had gotten hurt. "A simple mission. We were…found out by the other side. Matthew and Roderich were there. Matthew tried to hold him back, but Roderich…lost it. We had to shoot him down."

"Roderich's…dead?" Gilbert asked carefully, with wide eyes.

"I'm afraid when he died, he wasn't quite like the Roderich you explained to us," Arthur shook his head. "He was angry, he was hostile, and he was careless."

"You haven't killed a lot of people, right?" Lovino asked casually. Despite Alfred's near constant screams and the severity of the situation, Lovino seemed right as rain. He simply smirked happily, as if he was proud that another member of that team was down. "How was it?"

"Don't make light of this," Arthur said simply. Alfred let out a louder scream than usual and Arthur looked back at him to find that his hand had clenched into a fist, but it didn't seem like he was moving beyond that. "We can stop if this is too much for you."

"What good am I with only one arm?" Alfred asked, with an oddly collected voice. He was in obvious pain, but perhaps he had been through worse. Arthur wasn't about to ask. "Keep going." Francis nodded, albeit shakily, as he continued to work with the wiring inside of Alfred's arm. Arthur noticed that the prosthetic did seem like it was fairly close to an actual arm, but there were parts of it, like the elbow and wrist, where it was just a ball socket. The hole went straight through Alfred's forearm, to the point where Arthur could see the table through it. It occurred to Arthur what would have happened if Alfred didn't have these prosthetics, all because he thought it was a good idea to see a dead man.

"Don't go hard on yourself," Gilbert sighed. "Everyone fucks up every once in a while. Doesn't look like Alfred's mad about it. How could you have known they would find you?"

"Yeah," Arthur muttered. He still wondered what those two were doing at that graveyard. Roderich knelt in front of the grave of the man Arthur had gone to see and Matthew had even told him that there was no one there worth respect. Did they know who Arthur had gone to see?

"The odd part is that Kiku wasn't there," Gilbert mused. "I gotta know what the king's up to now that I'm not in the loop anymore."

"I haven't a clue," Arthur winced when Alfred screamed again and this time, his fingers started to move. He nodded for Francis to keep going. It looked like nearly all of the wires were back in place. The only problem was that they didn't have the equipment to close that hole. "It seems the orders still stand to not engage seriously. Or else Matthew would have actually tried to kill us. The oddest part, however, was the fact that Matthew took the body with him."

"He did?" Gilbert asked, a surprised look tracing his face. "He's not supposed to…"

"The only reason they didn't collect Elizabeta was due to the fact that we were in the building," Arthur sighed.

"We don't exist," Alfred said simply, holding up his right arm and moving it around, wincing only occasionally. "All of us were erased completely when the king took us in. We don't get a burial. We get forgotten. It's as simple as that. I don't know what Matthew was thinking, taking Roderich with him."

"Perhaps he wanted to change that," Arthur mused as Alfred held out his left arm for Francis to take out the bullet that was still lodged in it. He only winced slightly as it was taken out and Francis assessed the damage.

"That's why I let him do it," Alfred sighed. "Looking back at it, if I could do the same for Elizabeta and Feliciano, I would."

"Too late to take it back now," Lovino scoffed.

"Thank you," Ludwig said simply and Alfred nodded to him, wincing as Francis connected a few wires.

"Not quite good as new, but as close as we can get it," Francis nodded, glancing at Arthur. Arthur turned to look out the window. The sun had begun to set by the time they had come back. Alfred was slower, what with his arm hanging useless and causing him pain the entire way back. "I'm sorry we don't have anything to close the holes."

"I'll just wear a shirt like I usually do, no one's gonna notice," Alfred said nonchalantly.

"I'm going to rest," Arthur sighed, walking swiftly out of the room that seemed like it was already too full. "It's been a long day."

"I suppose so," Francis hummed and Arthur shook his head. The door to his room closed behind him as he entered and he let out a long sigh. He hated to admit it, but his heart had practically stopped when he saw the bullet hit Alfred. He had worried if Alfred had actually been hit. For a moment, he forgot that Alfred had prosthetics to protect him. What had gotten over him?

* * *

Matthew fought tooth and nail with the soldiers at the capital building. They had seen Roderich, dead on his back, and tried to take him away. Matthew wasn't going to allow that. Yes, his fighting was off with the weight on his back, but he was well-trained enough to fight off the soldiers around him. He stopped, however, when he turned and caught the eyes of Kiku, standing right in front of him. Matthew let out a small breath, more tears slipping past his defenses as Kiku took in the situation.

"You shouldn't have brought him back," Kiku muttered.

"I couldn't leave him," Matthew admitted.

"Stop!" Ivan's voice rang clearly through the air and Matthew and Kiku both froze. The soldiers around them, sure enough, stopped and knelt before the king. Kiku knelt before him as well. Matthew took a deep breath and turned to face the king. It was rather odd to see him outside, it had never occurred to Matthew before then that he had never seen him anywhere but inside of the building. "Soldiers, return to your posts."

"Yes, Your Majesty," flooded through the crowd behind them and the soldiers flooded out.

"Matthew," Ivan said, his voice growing softer and Matthew braved a look at the man's eyes. He was stressed, yes, and this surely wasn't doing anything to help that. But he also looked rather sad. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm sorry," Matthew admitted, carefully maneuvering Roderich until the man was on his back on the ground, between Matthew and Ivan. "We did as you ordered and we ran into revolutionaries. Roderich was not acting like himself and he fell. I could not leave him, I ask for your forgiveness."

"Why did you bring him here?" Ivan asked carefully and Matthew felt himself tremble as he forced back the tears.

"I have to ask," Matthew said, bowing his head, "please, for you to allow his burial. I do not want him to be remembered as the broken man he became after Elizabeta's death. He is my friend and I would like for him to be remembered, even if that means as the noble he was before."

Ivan let out a deep sigh and Matthew was almost afraid to look up at the king in front of him. "It seems as though the missing son of Lord Edelstein has finally been found," Ivan said simply and Matthew looked up at Ivan, the tears betraying him once again. Kiku even seemed surprised, though had the discipline to stay kneeling where he was. The king smiled softly at him. "I thank you for the courage it took to retrieve this man."

"Thank you," Matthew smiled back at him. Ivan gave orders to the few soldiers that had stayed and they took Roderich. Ivan gave them clear orders and no one could betray a direct order from the king. At least, that was what Matthew believed. There were very few exceptions, after all.

"You two should rest," Ivan said simply. "With only two of you left, I'm afraid I will need you two by my side constantly."

"Of course," Matthew nodded to him as Kiku stood with a bow to the man before the two headed off to their rather empty home.

* * *

**And another one down. This one I had problems with. I had it really well planned out in my head, right? And then it refused to work like that on paper, so I had to work with what I had. And I totally didn't expect Alfred to get shot, but I think it worked out rather well. Emotional things happened this chapter, though, Matthew feeling it more than Alfred, oddly enough. This is mostly due to the fact that Matthew was there for most of Roderich's character development. Alfred's affected, yes, he's just learning how to deal with it differently with his new group. There's also the fact that pain is a great distraction from things like that.**

**Sorry I didn't update twice in the same weekend, despite me saying I had so much time on my hands. Whatever, I updated on Monday to make up for it and we'll see if I write enough to update again during the week. Guess we'll have to wait and find out, huh?**

**Anyway, I'm done rambling. So please join me next time and, as always, please review!**


	26. Animals

Chapter 26. Animals.

Arthur typed and read furiously on his laptop, trying to find something. They would be moving into the capital soon and they still had two assassins to worry about. The two they were the most worried about. Granted, Arthur was still worried for Alfred and his part in the mission of taking the capital. He still had yet to iron that out. It hadn't even been a few hours since Roderich died, but Alfred didn't seem too badly affected by it. Perhaps he was just better at hiding his emotions than Arthur supposed. Now that he had grown used to having emotions, that is…

There was a knock at Arthur's door and Arthur paused for a moment, glancing at the time. Three in the morning. Who the bloody hell wanted to talk to him this late? If it was Francis bent on making a fuss over what had happened the day before…Arthur shook his head and walked up to his door. He had locked it a few hours prior and so he straightened himself out and unlocked the door. He blinked in surprise when he saw Alfred standing before him.

"You want something?" Arthur asked gruffly. He was tired and nowhere close to going to sleep. Even if he did sleep, he would still have a problem even getting to sleep. When he did, the nightmares followed, the only exemption being when he fell asleep with Alfred. Which wasn't happening again.

"Can I talk with you?" Alfred asked. He obviously was far from tired. He had gotten a good night's sleep the night before, there was clear reason to it. And Arthur knew just by looking at him that Alfred was someone who could go days without sleep if he needed to. Arthur sighed and nodded, allowing Alfred into his room.

"You should be asleep," Arthur sighed as the door closed. He leaned against it as he looked at Alfred, who stood at the center of his room, looking at him.

"Why did we go there yesterday?" Alfred asked simply and Arthur blinked at him. "We didn't need to go for some mission for the revolutionary army, we didn't even do anything but be found out and leave. So why did we go?"

Arthur sighed and glared at the ground for a while. Silence stretched between them as he tried to formulate something in his head. He could lie, easily, but Alfred would no doubt see through that in seconds and Arthur didn't want to have to deal with those consequences. Next came the ability to actually speak about who the man was. Talking about it with Francis was one thing. Arthur never had to _explain_ anything to Francis, he just understood. Arthur hadn't even needed to tell Francis, the man had just somehow figured out that he was a slave. But now he had to explain it to Alfred?

Minutes of silence passed before Arthur looked up at Alfred, who was still patiently waiting.

"The man Roderich had killed," Arthur muttered quietly, but his voice seemed painfully loud in the quiet around them. The dying bulb blinked above them, only dully illuminating the space between them. It was times like this that Arthur remembered what happened between the two of them the day Alfred discovered his secret. Arthur coughed away the blush that appeared on his face. Why was he acting shy about something like that now? "He was the first person that…that…owned me." Alfred blinked. "Francis was the idiot that said it was a good idea. Getting closure. I don't know why Roderich and Matthew would have been there, either they discovered my secret and knew I would be there or this was Ivan's punishment for Roderich killing someone so influential and important, considering how many slaves he went through in his life…It was unnecessary and it cost one of your former teammates his life and I apologize for that."

"How long ago was that?" Alfred asked curiously and Arthur subconsciously flinched at the question. "The first one?"

Arthur chuckled humorlessly. "What kind of question is that?" Arthur scoffed. "He was the first. The second I no longer needed my mother, I was all his. He got bored and needed money so he sold me. End of story." Arthur could ignore the fact that his hands were shaking for now, as long as Alfred didn't press this like Arthur knew he would. Alfred was going to be delicate, sure, but he was going to press it. And Arthur wasn't sure if he could really handle something like that.

"I don't think that's the end of the story," Alfred said simply and Arthur twitched. He took a deep breath. He could handle this. He didn't need another episode to slow him down. He still had so much work to do that night, trying to figure out something for them to do regarding the last two assassins under Ivan's control, and hopefully that would involve keeping them alive.

"What else would you like to hear, then?" Arthur scoffed. "Do you want to hear about what I was forced to do, what happened when I didn't? Do you really want to learn about all of the skeletons in my closet or would you prefer to just pretend it didn't exist, go back to sleep, and allow me to return to work? You got the answer to your question, you can leave."

"Pretend it didn't exist?" Alfred asked. "Is that what you do?"

"It can't exist," Arthur let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I can't allow it to, alright? I can't allow myself to be distracted by my own scars. If I do, I won't get anything done. Perhaps once we finish our revolution, then I can allow myself to be distracted. For now, I have important matters to attend to. I can't afford for what happened in the past to be real, at least for now." That was all too true. It was all pretend, what had happened. The scars and the pain. That made it easy to handle. It wasn't a good way to deal with it and he slipped up occasionally, yes. But for a lot of the time, pretending nothing happened worked. Alfred was the one that was coming around and ruining it.

"What, are you afraid of getting hurt?" Alfred asked and Arthur winced. "I can't pretend that my parents weren't killed and my arms and legs weren't cut off just so that I can keep going. Just so life can be easier. I can't pretend that I've watched people I care about be killed in front of me and I can't pretend I haven't killed other people's loved ones just because I have a hard time dealing with it."

"You don't have the same scars I do!" Arthur shouted before he could stop himself. He stood in shock for a moment before he continued. Alfred was going to stop trying to pry him open. "What happened to you was terrible, yes, but you don't remember a second of it. I remember every single thing that happened to me. I may not have killed people, but what do you even care? You were raised to have blood on your hands, to the point where death hardly makes you bat an eye. I was born to be a slave, yes, I was trained to do exactly as I was told. I was trained to remember! If you think for one damn second that you can empathize with me, then I dare you to glance at my scars. _Try_ to go through what I went through and tell me that you can stand there and not pretend it didn't happen."

"Then show me," Alfred said, his voice calm and…gentle. At that moment, in the dying light of the cheap bulb, he didn't look like a killer trained nearly from birth to do the king's bidding. He looked like a normal man. And Arthur would bet anything he looked like a scared coward that wanted, more than anything, for someone to know all of his inner demons, to help him through them. But he wasn't that weak. He couldn't afford to be. "Arthur," Alfred stepped forward and looked right into his eyes. "You don't have to be afraid."

And Arthur's resolve shattered, just like that. Alfred was close enough that Arthur physically couldn't stop himself from clinging onto Alfred's shirt tightly, hiding his face in Alfred's chest as the tears poured without his permission. His face grew hot as he was helpless to the emotions that had wanted to come out for years, the stifled emotions that Arthur refused to acknowledge until that moment. He was quiet, yes, but he couldn't allow anyone to hear. He _couldn't_.

"Don't be ashamed of your scars," Alfred muttered, carefully hugging him back, though he was incredibly hesitant, to the point where Arthur almost laughed. Neither of them knew what they were doing.

"These are everything to be ashamed of," Arthur chuckled humorlessly. "I wasn't the kind of slave you had cleaning your house, or you send to get groceries."

"Then what did you do?" Alfred prompted and Arthur pushed away to look him in the eye, regardless of the tears making that near impossible.

"Whatever Master told me to," Arthur said simply, his voice cracking. "I would wait for hours in the bedroom until he wanted to see me and I would do what he said, regardless of the _pain_ or if I even knew what I was _doing._ It didn't matter how old I was, as long as Master was _happy._ It didn't matter if I was left with scars, both mental and physical, it didn't matter if I was dirty, I would just get cleaned up later. As long as Master was happy." Arthur felt himself shaking. Sure, the first one hadn't done it often, though the second Master more than made up for it. That was all he was good for. He was weak, he was small. But he had his looks going for him. Alfred had this look of realization, as if he hadn't realized before. "The chains were for fun," Arthur muttered darkly. "At first, that was what I was transported with, all slaves move around with chains. But Master thought it was _funny_ to dress me with chains."

"I didn't…" Alfred muttered, looking at a loss for words and Arthur nearly cried again, but he couldn't exactly stop now.

"And the whips?" Arthur laughed bitterly. "That was because I didn't fight back. I was the favorite _toy_. I wouldn't react when I was whipped, it was a fun game. I only reacted once, when the pain was too much. I cried out. Then the game became a punishment until Master was happy again. Are these enough scars for you? I can show you, if you want. This isn't something to talk about. This isn't something I can get over, Alfred! I have to pretend it didn't happen."

"Can I see them?" Alfred asked suddenly and Arthur blinked at him.

"What?" Arthur asked breathlessly.

"The scars," Alfred said, as if that cleared everything up. Arthur's back stung at the very mention of it and his breath hitched. "Let's see whose are worse."

"You'd lose that competition," Arthur laughed, just slightly. A real laugh. Alfred was ridiculous. Did he understand what kind of situation this was? And he was cracking jokes like that? It wasn't even funny, yet Arthur was laughing.

"Let's find out," Alfred said softly.

Arthur carefully moved his hands to the hem of his shit. Now this was something knew. He had never shown anyone, other than Master, of course, the scars. They'd grown and warped and, naturally looked grotesque due to lack of proper medical attention. But what did he have to lose? Arthur slowly and carefully raised the shirt over his head and tossed it haphazardly to the ground, slowly turning to show his back to Alfred. Arthur had never bothered counting how many lashes he got, they all blended together. He dealt with the pain, that was why he almost never reacted. He hardly looked at them himself, knowing it would do nothing but cause him the pain all over again. Just thinking about it made each, individual scar burn like hell.

A cold finger traced over a scar over his spine and Arthur jumped, letting out a small squeak. He looked back at Alfred, panic very evident on his face, but Alfred simply nodded to him. He was nervous, yes, but he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't be ashamed of your scars," Alfred repeated himself. "They show that you fought hard in your battle. And, from the looks of it, you won."

"Have you won your battle?" Arthur asked simply, turning to face him.

"I don't even know what mine is," Alfred shook his head, smiling without any meaning. Arthur's hand betrayed him as it went to lightly touch Alfred's cheek. Alfred had been tossed around in this turbulent world since he was born. Who knew what his parents had done and then it was decided for him he would be an assassin for the king. Then Arthur had decided it would be a great idea to take him under the wing of the revolutionaries. Arthur knew his battle clearly. The king allowed a vile thing like slavery to exist and Arthur couldn't allow it any longer. What did Alfred really want to happen?

"I'm sorry," Arthur admitted. His past was horrible, yes, but it fueled what he was doing, allowed him to…move forward, even if he was stuck in the past. But Alfred had no idea what he was looking forward to. What was he fighting for? Did he even believe in the revolutionary ideals or did Arthur just manage to convince a naïve boy that his way was the correct way?

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Alfred said simply, his hand on Arthur's wrist to stop him from touching his cheek. And, in that moment, Arthur found that he didn't quite care anymore. He couldn't care less that Alfred knew more than anyone else, couldn't care that his bare back of scars and memories was out for the world to see, couldn't care that they were desperately low on time for their plan to be successful in the near future, couldn't care that he was painfully low on sleep.

And so, Arthur leaned forward and pressed his lips against Alfred's. Just the slightest contact was enough to take Arthur's breath away, once again, but he advanced the kiss before Alfred had the chance to. Arthur's tongue danced across Alfred's bottom lip, daring to ask for entrance. Alfred, inexperienced as always, allowed it and reciprocated the kiss easily, allowing not only for Arthur to explore his mouth thoroughly, but also exploring Arthur's to the fullest extent. The need for air was unimportant and Alfred's cold hands skated across the scars and Arthur gripped onto Alfred's hair like it was a lifeline. He couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips as Alfred's hands kept a secure grip on his hip. Alfred had no idea what to do while Arthur's mind reeled at everything he had only known from the past, everything he didn't want to experience again.

Arthur discreetly moved them forward, distracting Alfred's attention with the battle for dominance in their mouths. Alfred let out a few groans himself as his inexperienced mouth never failed to amaze and surprise Arthur. Finally, they reached Arthur's bed and they clumsily fell onto it, though Alfred only faltered for half a second, if that, before he resumed moving his hands over Arthur's body. Arthur gasped as the fingers wisped over the scars over his chest and stomach. Arthur dared to move his mouth away from Alfred's just long enough to suck on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, making Alfred almost whine and Arthur smirked. He was practically on top of Alfred, but the man still made it seem as if he was in charge, roving around any part of Arthur's body already made accessible to him. The scars around Arthur's neck, retracing the scars all the way down his back.

The bad memories flashed in front of Arthur almost constantly, however, the man in front of him, the man that had known pain, despite Arthur claiming he didn't understand. The man that only thought of him as a human, even after knowing his secret…He helped Arthur forget. No…that wasn't right. He helped Arthur accept that it happened. No more playing pretend. Arthur was facing all of his fears in that one moment.

And he was winning.

* * *

**God, this chapter wanted to come out so bad! I really did! This scene's been planned out for a **_**long**_** time, along with another one that is actually coming up soon, be excited. The USUK actually managed to get off the ground, finally. It only took a massive spill of emotions and secrets coming from Arthur. Now we know a lot more, however, not that a lot of you didn't figure it out already. And this fic will be staying rated T, so the rest can be left for all of y'all's imaginations (and I know all of you have quite a lot of that). Anyway, not exactly action in this chapter, but we got some "action" so everything is fine.**

**So, please review! And I'll see y'all next time!**


	27. Dream

Chapter 27. Dream.

Arthur felt surprisingly well rested as he began to open his eyes. He normally didn't wake up feeling so…warm and cozy when he woke up. Normally, he didn't even have a chance to sleep in his own bed, falling asleep on his desk or even on the couch. His vision was blurry as he woke up, but he could clearly see a figure right in front of him, but he found that he didn't feel any panic at this. As his eyes focused, he clearly saw Alfred's face as the man beside him remained fast asleep.

Arthur blinked in surprise. Right. He had fallen asleep with Alfred the night before… Alfred was resting on his side, facing Arthur, and his arm was tucked securely over the comforter and Arthur found himself distracted by the man's shoulder. As a result of the events the previous night…or early morning, Alfred was shirtless, exposing the socket for his arm. Arthur could clearly see the scarring along the man's shoulder from his repeated surgeries for new prosthetics. This was the arm where the bullet had gotten lodged, not shot clean through, enabling Arthur to closely examine the handiwork of the machinery in front of him. From this close, it was painfully obvious that the material was far from real skin, though it was rather close. The material was hard and sleek, though far from clean, and it was very prevalent that Alfred needed new prosthetics.

Next, Arthur noticed that, with Alfred's glasses now off, he could clearly see the scar that ran along both of Alfred's eyes. It was a clean, straight line that moved across his face, over the bridge of his nose. This had occurred when he was a child and it was clear that the scar had reopened a few times in the man's past. What confused Arthur, however, was the fact that this was done during the time of the first revolution, when Ivan had taken power. Alfred had said counter revolutionaries took his sight and his limbs from him, but the counter revolutionaries were terribly equipped and hardly any of them carried even a glass shard as a knife. They could never make a clean line like that.

It ran over Alfred's right eyelid, though not the left and it was interesting to trace its path. What had really happened that day? Alfred had only been a baby, evidently, and it was due to Ivan's kindness that some of the damage had been repaired. If Alfred had been just a child and had his limbs chopped off and his eyes slashed into, he would have bled out very quickly. Ivan had to have been nearby; he wasn't just passing by and happened to notice him. Could he have been there during the incident?

Arthur's hand betrayed him as he moved his hand up to trace the scar lightly. Alfred only flinched slightly in his, evidently, deep sleep. The scar was deep, but well-closed. The king took good care of Alfred and, no doubt, Matthew. He ensured they had the best supplies they could possibly have and constantly changed Alfred's prosthetics when he needed it. Was it perhaps because he felt guilty? That was certainly a possibility…

Arthur heard the tell-tale signs of the lock on his door being hacked into. How long had they been asleep for Francis to be the one to attempt to wake them up? Arthur, knowing full well the position that he was in, closed his eyes, retracting his hand under the comforter once more. He evened his breathing just as the door opened. Alfred twitched slightly, but didn't wake up.

"I see," Francis gave a whispered chuckle before the door closed once again.

"I think that means we should wake up now," Alfred said simply and Arthur opened his eyes to look at Alfred, who was smiling slightly. "Hey."

"You were awake?" Arthur snapped at him.

"I'm better at pretending to be asleep than you are," Alfred chuckled slightly, sitting upright in the bed and stretching his arms over his head, leaving part of the comforter to fall and leave Arthur's torso rather cold. Arthur noted the way Alfred's skin stretched painfully with the prosthetics, but Alfred didn't even seem slightly bothered by it.

"Go get dressed," Arthur mumbled, rolling over to plant his face in his pillow. He had just spent the night snogging the man and he had spent the morning admiring him while he pretended to be asleep. His focus should really be elsewhere, especially at a time like this. "I'm sure you can get to your room without getting caught."

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred said simply and Arthur glanced up at him. Alfred offered him a small smile. His glasses were still off of his face and Arthur found himself distracted by that scar. There was no way the counter revolutionaries did that… "I'm glad you were strong enough to show me your scars." Arthur felt a fierce violet rise to his face when he realized that his bare back was perfectly visible at that point and he swiftly sat upright, his back facing the wall. "And I really think you won your battle so you don't think you need to be afraid anymore."

"I'll consider it," Arthur snorted slightly. It wasn't quite that he was _afraid_, it was another feeling entirely.

Alfred nodded to him before darting out of the door with hardly a sound. Arthur sighed heavily as he got up as well. It wouldn't do him any good to continue lazing around. He had to focus, they had just a matter of days before the militaries of the surrounding countries moved forward to help them. They had to ensure that the king was vulnerable. That had been the plan for years and it was only now that it was moving. They had to be ready, regardless of if they really were.

* * *

Alfred felt pretty happy. He had gotten a good rest, for one, woke up comfortable for once, and Arthur seemed to be a bit happier as well. During breakfast, Arthur actually bothered to sit down and eat with them, talking through plans with Francis with the others imputing their opinions as well. Before long, they had a complete plan set in place for when the militaries of other countries were ready.

They were stealing an idea from the original revolution 28 years ago. Storm the capital all at once so that the military can't possibly keep up with the force of the attack. They would be fine with just Matthew and Kiku guarding Ivan as long as the two were separated and kept under control. Alfred would be far from the front, especially when they entered the capital building. If he was able, Alfred's job would be to distract either Matthew or Kiku and to keep their group of assassins safe while they entered the building.

"They still haven't contacted me with the day," Arthur sighed heavily, "but we do need to be ready at any moment to move."

"It's a pain in the ass we have to wait so fucking long," Lovino grumbled. "I wish we could just go in now and kill 'em all."

"With only two of them left, Matthew and Kiku won't leave the king's side unless he orders it himself," Alfred said. "Attack both of them together and I don't care how big of a group you're in, you're going to die and at least the king will still be standing."

"We just have to hope that he'll send at least one of them after us when we start the attack," Arthur said.

"All considering, it seems we would have better luck if Kiku was the one," Ludwig stated.

"He'll want Matthew by his side during this sort of thing," Gilbert nodded. "If he sends one, he'll probably send Kiku."

"We should also remember that he knows how to fight, too, right?" Antonio offered. "He was a soldier in the original revolution. That was why he became king, right? He was a popular soldier."

"No one's even seen him with a sword for at least nine years," Francis mused.

"No one's seen him outside for at least eight," Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. "We can't underestimate Ivan, though I believe it would be safe to say he is rusty. Alfred, have you seen him fight before?"

"I've seen him work out," Alfred shrugged. "I've seen him fight off two people; Elizabeta and Gilbert, who used the same tactics to go at him and that resulted in them joining the group. I would say he hasn't entered a true fight in years, decades, even. But I wouldn't underestimate his reaction time or his ability. If you're going to kill him, don't waste time by starting a fight. Kill him as soon as you get the chance."

"Oh, we're going to kill the bastard," Lovino smirked and Alfred looked at the ground. That was the one downside to this morning. Ivan was going to die. At the very least, Alfred would be far away, so he wouldn't have to see it and also to stop himself form doing something he might regret if he was actually in the room. He couldn't trust himself to not…perhaps…kill someone who tried to kill the king, out of mere reflex more than anything else. "Right now it's only a matter of when."

"Sadly, I'm unable to contact any of the leaders on my own," Arthur sighed heavily. "We won't know when we will move until they contact me. We will just have to ensure that we are ready at any time. And not take any unnecessary risks. We need our numbers to be higher than theirs, understood?"

"Of course," Gilbert nodded.

"And this means no more than simple guarding of this town," Arthur said clearly. "Do not leave without my say so."

"You done bossing everyone around yet?" Gilbert laughed. "I think it's my turn to go around the town, anyway."

"Go ahead," Arthur sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I'll send someone for you if any change in plans happens." Gilbert saluted him before heading out the door with a small laugh. "Antonio, I want you to make sure you have enough ammo for anything that should happen, find some if you have to. That goes for everyone, try to ensure that you're well stocked up to attack at a moment's notice."

"Alfred, do you still only have a few bullets in your gun?" Francis asked curiously.

"Yes," Alfred nodded. He knew that this group was rather low on funds, however, and other people needed bullets more than him. "I am not a major part to the battle and, should I wind up distracting Kiku, I would prefer to use my swords, so I don't think it's necessary that I have any more bullets than I have."

"Then that's fine," Arthur nodded. "As long as you feel you're prepared." He stood up, popping his neck as he did so. "I'm going to look further into the layout of the capital to see what route would be the best."

"Would you like some more company, like you did this morning?" Francis asked and Alfred fought back a small laugh, though he did notice the small blush that spread across his own cheeks. Arthur, on the other hand, turned a bright red before walking off angrily.

"What were you two doing this morning?" Antonio asked curiously.

"This morning?" Alfred shrugged. "Nothing."

* * *

This felt…weird. Yeah, that was the word for it. Matthew stood to the king's right at all times, Kiku to his left. They had to be ready to fight at any moment and, as a result, Matthew was practically covered in hidden guns and knives. He had no idea when the revolutionaries would attack, but he had to be ready all of the time. He had to be ready to fight off whoever would come. He wasn't sure if that team would be stupid enough to send Alfred in to go through with their plan to, at the very least, put Ivan out of power.

A part of Matthew knew that wasn't all they would do. He knew that the revolutionaries would attempt to kill the king. That was exactly why he was there with Kiku, never allowing Ivan out of his sight unless it was from his direct orders. Matthew had never quite been around Ivan all day and he never expected how much work the man had put under him. Matthew and Kiku had been summoned to his side starting that day at about four in the morning and, even then, it didn't even seem like Ivan had even an hour's worth of sleep. Since that moment, he had been moving around the capital constantly to conduct meetings or work on paperwork. Matthew and Kiku had only left his side once, and that was when a fairly large group of nobles came together to talk to him.

Currently, Ivan was in a meeting with a general that worked the border between their country and Merkatus. Ivan seemed about ready to fall asleep, despite the fact that the general was sure that Merkatus was raising their army. Once the meeting was over, it was the general that got up and left and Ivan was left to sigh deeply, leaning forward on the meeting table.

"If I may, Your Majesty," Matthew spoke up and Ivan seemed almost…startled, like he forgot that they were there, "you should get some sleep."

"There is no time," Ivan sighed, staring at the table for only a few moments before he stood up. "I have another meeting to attend."

"At this rate," Matthew spoke up, standing between the king and the door, "you will not be able to stand up to the revolution that you are watching unfold. Your Majesty, for your sake, please get some sleep."

"You do not understand,' Ivan smiled softly. "I have more meetings to attend to and those nobles…"

"You are the king," Kiku offered, though he still didn't look Ivan in the eye like Matthew dared to. Just by looking at the man's violet eyes, Matthew could tell that he was exhausted. He needed sleep. "Forgive me for intruding on your affairs, Your Majesty, though I do believe that you, of any person, has the right to tell someone you refuse to meet with them."

"I wish that were true," Ivan offered a sad smile before looking at Matthew. "Matthew, get out of my way." Matthew nodded and allowed the king to pass him before following him down the hall. He exchanged a glance with Kiku, who looked after Ivan sadly as well.

Matthew knew that the king worked hard, yes, but he never knew just how much he worked in one day alone. It was no wonder that the man didn't collapse, really. One problem that Matthew had was the fact that Ivan was receiving all of this news, which seemed almost like direct acts of war, and yet he was making no plans to do anything about it. His advice to the general was to wait to see how it played out. He wasn't moving troops further into the country to protect it, he was leaving them dispersed and in, frankly, terrible positions. It was almost as if the king _wanted_ this revolution to happen.

Matthew was going to have to watch him very carefully.

* * *

**You guys like how I left it very ambiguous with what happened last night? Yeah, did that on purpose just for you guys. I couldn't decide for myself what happened last night, so let's just leave that to never be decided, kay? We also got a glimpse of Ivan as well, which left me feeling very tired indeed. His exhaustion makes me feel tired, really. But, whatever, not a lot this chapter, but look forward to a lot coming up really soon!**

**And, as always, please review!**


	28. Long Way Down

Chapter 28. Long Way Down.

"So, let me get this straight," Gilbert laughed from where he sat at the table in the kitchen. He was sitting beside Alfred, who had been dragged into the conversation, but he wasn't complaining because he had nothing else to do, and Francis and Antonio were sitting across from them. They were sharing stories of what they had missed while they were separated for so long. Alfred could tell that they were close friends and had plenty of stories together already. "So you thought it was three girls, but one of them turned out to be a dude."

"No, two of them were guys," Antonio chuckled. "Francis couldn't have cared less but the girl was long gone after she found out."

"It was such a shame, too," Francis mused. "That would have been so interesting. Not like it wasn't a fun night, anyway."

"You guys get all the fun," Gilbert scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "We had to stay hidden, didn't get any action at all."

"I wouldn't say no action," Francis shrugged, glancing at Antonio, who nodded in agreement. "What of this brother of Alfred we've been hearing so much about?"

"Don't even get me started," Alfred huffed and Gilbert half-heartedly glared at him.

"Hey, just because he paid more attention to the awesome me than you, doesn't mean you have to hate me," Gilbert smirked. "Besides, I didn't even get any action from him. If any of you happened to forget, we were busy all the fucking time."

"So that's where all of this pent up feeling is coming from," Antonio laughed and Gilbert blushed lightly. Alfred couldn't help but laugh, even just slightly. Bringing up his brother did hurt a little bit, but it was good to think about him in a positive light again. Back to when they had been together, as a team. Back when Alfred's only worry was that his brother was getting close to the obnoxious Gilbert. Back when the only thing that mattered in the world was the word of the king. "I thought you came back with more sexual tension than usual."

"I take some offense to that," Gilbert said. "It's not more, I'm pretty sure it's about the same as when I left."

"Oh, yes, but during that battle that we fought him, you were just oozing with these new feelings," Francis teased. "It's painfully obvious that you have feelings for him, Gilbert."

"And do I stand a chance?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow. He didn't want for the conversation to take a darker turn, he really didn't. So he kept the tone light and Alfred looked at the table in front of him. He wasn't even sure if he had a chance with the relationship he once had with his own brother. "Anyway, I'm sure you've got plenty other good stories, don't get distracted by my boring life."

"Please, your life wasn't boring," Antonio rolled his eyes. "How many people did you kill again?"

"I don't keep track of shit like that," Gilbert shrugged. "I stopped keeping track after, like, 60 or something like that."

"What about you, Alfred, do you keep track of your number?" Francis asked haphazardly.

"763," Alfred answered easily. And he still remembered every single name and face of a person he'd killed.

"Are you serious?" Antonio gaped at him and Alfred nodded.

"This guy's crazy when it comes to killing people," Gilbert sighed dramatically. "He's got this thing with memorizing names and faces. Something about no one else is going to remember them."

"Wow," Antonio smiled slightly. "That's impressive. Back when I was a soldier, I would try to keep track. Lost it after about 50, I think."

"I have never been happier that my past is nowhere near as bloody as any of yours," Francis shook his head.

"Yeah, how many do you have, like 10?" Gilbert smirked, slinging his arm over the back of his chair. "That's a little pathetic, I mean, I'm pretty sure Feli had more than you, if I'm not mistaken."

"I don't even keep track," Francis said with a flippant wave of his hand. "After the first one, it didn't matter anymore."

"Why did the first one matter so much?" Alfred asked. He remembered the first person he killed. Target practice with Kiku. The king had told him to do it, so he hadn't reacted badly to it, even if he was only 10 years old. The king said that there was nothing wrong with it. The man deserved to die.

"He was my father," Francis said simply, without a hint of hesitation or regret. "I would think it would be rather obvious what my past was like. I was a noble, now I am a revolutionary with all of his money gone for this cause. I obviously did not get along with him."

"It's a hell of a story," Gilbert shrugged. "My bet's that it's got something to do with Arthur, the secretive little bastard."

"Yeah, I know about pretty much everyone's past," Antonio sighed. "The only question in the air is Arthur, who refuses to say anything."

"Then I guess we'll never know," Francis shrugged simply. Alfred caught his gaze and Francis simply sent him a wink. "I certainly didn't know him until he found me himself, just like the rest of you."

"Whatever," Gilbert rolled his eyes before glancing at Alfred. "What about you, lover boy? He's had to have told you something, right?"

"Lover boy?" Alfred asked.

"Oh, it's painfully obvious something is happening between you two," Antonio snickered. "Considering you've already slept with each other twice. You have to know something."

"What would there be to tell me?" Alfred asked. He was rather good at lying, one of his many skills he learned to pick up because the king needed him to and, to the king, it wasn't wrong. "He's just someone that had his life messed up by the king, just like all of you, right?"

"Sure," Gilbert snorted. "Let's believe that bullshit a little longer."

"If you four are finished," Arthur's voice said clearly in the silence that followed and all four men jumped slightly, looking to the entrance of the kitchen. Alfred had been so caught up on the conversation that he hadn't heard him coming…he was really losing his touch… "we need to move. Now."

"Shit, already?" Gilbert asked, standing up.

"The armies of Merkatus and Prulamuck are already on their way," Arthur nodded. "Eltrack's should come with Yao tomorrow. We are leaving now. Antonio and Francis, go fetch his gun," Arthur ordered easily and the two men left quickly. "I've already told Lovino and Ludwig, their scouting ahead now. Gilbert, do not leave Alfred's side. Alfred, do not enter the main battle unless absolutely necessary."

"Define necessary," Gilbert said as they both stood from their seats.

"If the lives of the rulers of Merkatus or Prulamuck are in direct threat," Arthur said simply, turning towards the living room. "Our lives are of no matter, understood?"

"I think I'd beg to differ on that one," Gilbert joked with a smirk before looking down at Alfred as Arthur left. "You ready, hot shot?"

"As I'll ever be," Alfred muttered. If this turned out as they expected, the king was going to die today. What troubled Alfred the most, however, was the fact that these militaries were obviously mobilizing, and fast, around this country and the king had changed absolutely nothing. Either he had a plan to stop them, or he had a plan to let them come. Either was equally dangerous. Alfred followed Gilbert out of the house.

* * *

Matthew was the first to react to the sound of gunshots, turning his head to the door of the small meeting room they were in. Kiku and Ivan followed a fraction of a second later, the noble complaining about taxes for the upper class slowly morphed into silence. There were plenty more gunshots afterwards and Matthew tensed.

"Your Majesty," Matthew said simply. "We have to move you now."

"Of course," Ivan stood slowly, offering his goodbyes and apologies to the noble. His own bodyguards were finally on edge. Ivan led the way, walking far more calmly than he should. This wasn't even a façade, he was calm.

"We will make sure we get you to the safe room as soon as possible, Your Majesty," Kiku said simply and began walking in the direction of a sort of bunker that would be perfect to defend from. Even with just two of them. Matthew was sure this could blow over with nothing happening to the king.

"That will not be necessary," Ivan smiled at him. A true smile. It sent shivers down Matthew's spine. What was Ivan thinking? These people were there to kill him, and he was walking at a pace befitting a stroll. "Kiku, would you please assist the soldiers at the front of the building. I believe that will give me enough time."

"Your Majesty," Matthew muttered as Kiku bowed and ran off to do as he was ordered. The king simply continued to walk, in the opposite direction of the safe room. "Ivan!" The king looked back at him. "Your safety is the most important thing to me. What are you planning if it will compromise your safety to this point?"

"Follow me, Matthew," Ivan offered a small smile as he continued to walk. Matthew pulled out a gun as he followed him closely behind. The gunshots were nowhere near close enough to be a danger of coming into the capital building, but he had to be on guard just in case. Arthur's team was still out there, with most of their members still remaining. "I have a special assignment for you. I have been waiting quite some time for this day."

"For what day?" Matthew asked.

"For the day I finally receive the punishment I deserve," Ivan sighed happily. He continued to walk through the halls, ignoring the soldiers that rushed to get to the main entrance and the nobles that rushed to the safest room they knew. Matthew followed him wordlessly until they reached the familiar doors of the throne room. They walked inside and the door closed loudly, closing out the sounds of the gunshots clearly. Ivan only walked halfway to his throne before he stopped, turning to face Matthew suddenly. "I need you to trust me."

"I have never doubted you, "Matthew said honestly.

"You should have," Ivan smiled sadly before placing one hand on his shoulder. "I have a plan in mind and I would like for you to retrieve Alfred for me, alive. You are not to kill him."

"What is this plan?" Matthew asked. Of course, the king had his reasons for everything, but this was one case where he desperately wanted to know what was going on. Why did he need Alfred for this?"

"Please," Ivan said. "Also, if you would not mind retrieving something for me as well, I would appreciate that."

"What do you need?" Matthew asked.

* * *

Ivan settled into his throne, watching Matthew's retreating form as he closed the door. Ivan closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. He should have been dreading this day and he knew it. But the mere idea of what he knew was to come brought a smile onto his face. He could see them again, or at least there was a chance he could. This was his own decision, as well. Surely, the nobles would protest, but they had no room to talk now.

Ivan had tried to rebel in the past, but this was the one day he could really do it. The one day he had the courage because he knew there was no way for them to get back at him now. The was the one day that the nobles would not get what they wanted and that made Ivan happy for the first time in years.

He had driven himself to exhaustion and he still was far beyond what he knew his body could handle. It had only grown dangerous when Matthew and Kiku tell from up close just how exhausted he was. Thankfully, his word was law. That would help him later, as well. It didn't matter how far he drove himself, it was all to one purpose. And soon he would be able to see Alfred as well, a thought that made Ivan even happier.

He could not wait to see him again, see what had become of him without the king over him like Matthew. Someone who was independent and perhaps even happy. Perhaps he had found a purpose in his life. Surely, if they both survived this day, they would find a purpose, or perhaps have it forced upon them like Ivan's purpose had been forced onto him. He just hoped that they had better luck than Ivan had.

* * *

**Short chapter is short, but it's leading up to probably what will be a very long chapter. I've got a lot planned and I'm not sure if I want to cut it into pieces. We'll find out, I guess, but until then, this is a thing. Ivan's planning something and you guys have no idea how excited I am for his backstory. It's still the only one I've fully written out and it's probably gonna be the last one you guys see. Anyway, enough of me rambling. Not a lot of important things happened, except for some characterization, which is always important.**

**Also, I don't guarantee a lot of updates in the near future. Lots of hectic stuff going on including Graduation, family coming into town, Comic Con, concerts, etc. I hope to finish this fic entirely (including the backstories) before I go to Europe in June so no one has to worry about that hiatus, but please bear with me this next week, I'll update when I can, so that may be sometime in the middle of the week, I dunno. Thanks.**

**Please review, as always, and I'll see you around next time!**


	29. Fallen

Chapter 29. Fallen.

Alfred took a few deep breaths as he centered his thoughts. Gilbert was panting beside him as they took cover behind a building extremely close to the capital building. They had barely made it to the capital before they were under fire from the various soldiers around them. Alfred glanced over the side of the building to see the procession in front of him. The militaries of the surrounding nations were far more impressive than the military of his own country. It was almost sad. The militaries worked together flawlessly, moving without question from the orders of those in front.

The group directly in front, however, drew the most attention. All five of the leaders from the country of Merkatus were in front, along with Feliks, the king of Prulamuck. They all held their own guns, not so much as flinching when another soldier of the king fell in front of them. Arthur was with them, along with Lovino, Francis, and Ludwig. Antonio was most likely hopping the buildings from above, shooting down anyone he had a clear shot to. They weren't holding back this time, they couldn't afford to. The goal was a complete takeover.

"This is fun, huh?" Gilbert smirked from beside him. "Assassins in broad daylight, who would've thought."

"Yeah, it's weird," Alfred muttered, running with Gilbert along the back alleys to follow the procession. A few civilians were around here and there, but they easily ignored each other. The civilians were focused on surviving and Alfred was focused on ensuring the safety of the country leaders. Gilbert was focused on making sure Alfred didn't make any sudden movements. Once the group got into the capital building, it was all off-limits to Alfred.

He looked around another corner when they stopped again. Everything was going fine, according to plan. That was when he saw two soldiers that had managed to avoid a barrage of bullets thanks to shields. They were aiming randomly at the front, but Alfred could clearly see their guns pointed at Arthur. He had no idea what came over him, and so quickly, but he stepped forward and shot both of them quickly in the head. That left him with only one bullet left.

"Are you stupid?" Gilbert demanded, pulling him back into darkness before the other soldiers could see where he shot from. "Remember the orders?"

"He was going to get shot," Alfred fought back.

"We're not important, remember?" Gilbert asked. "It's not like we're even going to get buried. Focus on the people that matter. You've only got one bullet left now, dumbass!"

"I know what I'm doing," Alfred said, wrenching himself free to run along the alleys once again to keep up with the moving military.

"You better," Gilbert muttered, following him close behind. Alfred stopped once they were just across the street from the capital building. There was a rather large group of military men lined up in front of the door and, among them, standing just in front of the doors, was Kiku, who held two swords securely in both hands. The soldiers in the revolutionary procession didn't even hesitate to open fire and the soldiers at the doors immediately shot back. Gilbert placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, no doubt in an attempt to keep him from moving.

Alfred watched as countless soldiers in front of the doors fell, though Kiku easily blocked or sliced into bullets, leaving him unscathed as long as he wasn't the center of attention. But Alfred felt a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The soldiers around Kiku were falling quickly and, soon, he would be the only target.

"Don't you dare," Gilbert said simply and Alfred noticed that he had tensed to move. Alfred gritted his teeth. Kiku moved forward, suddenly, expertly weaving around the remaining soldiers on his side, and dodging the bullets headed his way. He ran right into the crowd of soldiers from the side, knowing just who to avoid. As he ran, he sliced into every soldier he passed, making nearly every single one fall.

Alfred stored his gun before quickly pulling up one of his sleeves, looking at his least injured arm. Maybe… Gilbert watched both scenes unfold with interest as Alfred tinkered with his arm. Alfred winced as the arm resisted, but his sword did eventually come out. With a little bit more effort, the sword popped out of place, though stayed balanced on his arm. Alfred had to do something while not wasting his last bullet. He could use that if Kiku got too close to a leader. For now, he waited for the perfect moment, for enough soldiers to fall around Kiku, and he quickly moved his arm so that the sword shot through the air. Kiku took a moment of pause as the sword sliced into his arm and clattered to the ground. Gilbert swiftly hid them behind a nearby building.

"Are you crazy?" Gilbert snapped.

"It distracted him," Alfred shrugged. It that pause, more soldiers had gotten their wits about them. There were more gunshots now and Alfred winced. He really hoped Kiku was smart enough to get out of this alive. Alfred knew full well that he could maybe do that again with the swords on his legs, but certainly not his broken arm. It barely worked well enough for him to aim properly, let alone have the sword come out.

That was when Alfred heard it; someone was running towards them. Alfred tensed and Gilbert did as well, but only a second too late. The person that ran towards them, from the opposite direction of the capital building, slammed into Gilbert, forcing his head into the wall behind him. Gilbert fell limp immediately, collapsing onto the ground. Alfred stared in wonder at the man in front of him.

"Matthew?" Alfred asked.

"He's not staying down for long, I didn't hit him that hard," Matthew said simply, looking Alfred directly in the eye. "Come with me, now."

"Why should I?" Alfred tensed, ready to grab for his gun at any moment.

"Direct order from Ivan," Matthew said coldly and Alfred's eyes widened and his arm dropped. "We don't have time, come now."

"Why does he want to see me?" Alfred asked.

"Are you questioning a direct order from the king?" Matthew asked and Alfred blinked. The gunshots sounded around them and Alfred noticed just how cold Matthew's eyes were. Alfred shook his head and Matthew took off running. Alfred followed him. They took the long way to the capital building, around the back where the main army wouldn't see them.

They were perfectly quiet as they entered the building. All of the soldiers were in the front, dying and fighting for their king. They weaved through the empty hallways easily. Matthew only stopped once to enter a room for a fraction of a second, before leaving with a device in his hand he didn't allow Alfred to see.

Alfred bit his lip as he followed Matthew. But it was odd. Surely, the king would be wise enough to be in the safe room in this situation, but that was not where they were going. In fact, they stopped running in front of the doors to the throne room, of all places. The door opened for them and Alfred nearly choked on his own breath to see the king, sitting on the throne as if nothing had changed over the past few days. The man was slouched, though the second he saw the two, he brightened and sat upright, giving them a smile.

"If you would, Matthew," Ivan said simply as the two stepped into the room. Matthew moved to the keypad for the door and locked it before pulling out his gun and shooting it. It wasn't budging now. What was Ivan planning?

"Your Majesty," Alfred muttered, looking at the ground, the walls, anywhere but at Ivan.

"It is good to see you again, Alfred," Ivan said to him and Matthew walked along the room easily, his footsteps the only sound to be heard, not even the sound of the gunshots around them. "I am happy to see that you are well."

"Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this?" Alfred asked as Matthew handed the object to Ivan. Alfred easily recognized it as the portable computer that Francis had used when Alfred had first met the revolutionary group.

"I hope you understand," Ivan sighed and Alfred felt the all too familiar feeling of his limbs locking up before they failed him, going limp. He tumbled to the floor, unable to catch himself. His face hit the floor painfully and he felt a bad feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. "Matthew, please sit your brother up for me."

Matthew walked, once again, to the other end of the room. Matthew helped Alfred to a sitting position and both brothers looked each other in the eye. Alfred could tell, in that moment, Matthew was just as scared as him. Neither of them knew what Ivan was up to, but they were locked in a room during a coup. They had no choice but to trust the man, though. What other choice did they have? He was their king, he was Ivan, the man they would both live and die for.

Matthew carefully maneuvered Alfred to the point where he was sitting against a wall, looking at Ivan, and Matthew stood to his side.

"I am going to be clear," Ivan said after a moment of silence. He wasn't hesitating, not even in the slightest. He sat comfortably in his throne, far more comfortable than Alfred had ever seen him in that symbolic chair. "I cannot say I care much for either of you." Alfred felt the pang in his heart grow worse and he saw Matthew's legs nearly fail him. Ivan was lying. "I was the one that killed your parents in the original revolution, they were in my way as I took the capital myself. You two were just a bit of fun for me, a way to let off some steam. It was…fun to listen to your screams as I cut into your eyes and even more fun to see what would happen if I cut off your limbs."

Alfred finally looked the man in the eyes. He was lying. His voice wasn't wavering, he wasn't shaking, he seemed far more comfortable in his skin than he had ever been, but he was lying. He had to be. The king Alfred had grown up with would have never done something like that.

"It was some soldier that finally made me stop, saying it was inhumane for me to do that to you," Ivan sighed heavily, as if he still regretted it to this day. "I was made king and, as a way of retribution, you could say, a few of the nobles decided I should take care of you two. So I made you…slaves in a way." Ivan chuckled slightly, a cold, heartless sound. He was lying. He was lying. He was lying. He was lying. "It's surprisingly easy to get people to do anything you want them to if you train them from birth, isn't it?"

"Why are you saying this?" Alfred asked, his voice wavering far more than it should be.

"Well, that is easy," Ivan smiled and Alfred had never felt so…terrified in his life. This was wrong. This was his king, he would never do anything bad. He was lying. He had a reason for everything. "I am going to offer you a final retribution. I would rather die by your hands than the hands of those barbarians."

"Ivan," Matthew said boldly, stepping forward and Ivan snapped his cold gaze on him.

"You do not have a say in this," Ivan said coldly and Alfred's eyes widened. Ivan messed with the machine in his hands and Alfred winced at the painful jolt that occurred as he regained control of his arms. "Neither do you. Alfred, shoot me."

Alfred's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the man, his breath all but leaving him. Shoot Ivan? How could he?

"You do have bullets left in your gun, correct?" Ivan asked boredly.

"One, Your Majesty," Alfred muttered and Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Even after that," Ivan shook his head, a sad smile tracing his face before he glared at Alfred. "Shoot me, Alfred, one is more than enough, don't you think?"

Alfred slowly moved his hands and he pulled out his gun. His hands were shaking and he knew it was all mental. His hands shouldn't even have the ability to shake. He stared at the gun before looking at Ivan, who seemed almost bored. Alfred carefully held the gun up and he felt Matthew tense beside him. Ivan sent him a warning glance and Matthew stayed still, his hands clenching into tight fists. Alfred aimed as carefully as he could, but his hands refused to stay steady on the face of the man he'd admired and obeyed for years.

"Alfred, shoot me!" Ivan snapped, his patience leaving him. Alfred was left so surprised that his finger hit the trigger and he winced, closing his eyes tightly at the sound. He took a few shaky breaths before he opened his eyes. Ivan stared at him in shock and Alfred noticed a hole in the wall behind him. For the first time, Alfred missed. He had never missed, not even the first time he shot a target. The king wanted him to hit it in the center, so he did. Matthew was the same way.

And he missed.

"Matthew," Ivan said simply, not taking his eyes off of Alfred. "Give Alfred one of your guns."

Alfred clumsily dropped the gun in his hands.

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Matthew," Ivan stopped him. "Give Alfred one of your guns." Matthew slowly obeyed, pulling out one of his pistols. Alfred didn't even look away from the king as he took hold of the gun easily. "You are not to miss this time, Alfred," Ivan said clearly. "Shoot to kill."

"I promise I won't miss this time," Alfred muttered, aiming at Ivan once again. There was a sound at the door beside him, people trying to hit it, trying to get in. They grew more feverish as time passed. He looked at Ivan. The man wanted to die, he wanted to be killed by Alfred and Matthew, and he was lying to get it done. At least, Alfred hoped he was lying. He must have been suffering, to be wanting to die so badly. Alfred would do this man one last favor and put him out of his misery. He raised the gun carefully and took a deep breath. His hands had stopped shaking.

He locked Ivan's head in his sight. He was not going to miss. He pulled the trigger and, in that moment, all sound seemed to stop. Ivan's body twitched as the bullet lodged in the center of his forehead and then he slouched, red trickling down his face, slowly at first, but then a lot faster, coating his face.

Alfred's shaking hands returned and he dropped the gun, not shifting his gaze from the corpse in front of him. He had just killed Ivan. He had just killed his king. He had killed the man that had given him life, given him a purpose. He screamed, his hands going to his hair, shifting to his mouth, his eyes, his hair, his ears, he couldn't decide. He couldn't even hear his own screams as he stared ahead. He tried to use his hands to help him climb away, despite his lack of ability to use his legs. He could feel himself getting light-headed as he didn't…couldn't stop screaming. What need did he have of air without his king alive to tell him what to do?

And then everything went black.

* * *

Gilbert groaned at the pain in his head. His eyes blinked open to blurry vision and he groaned again. There was something in front of him and he focused on it, despite the headache that quickly grew. Finally, he could see the face in front of him, the green eyes and brown hair.

"Oh, hey, Toni," Gilbert groaned, his hand going to his head to assess the damage. No blood. That was good.

"Gilbert," Antonio said, his voice quick and shaking. "We need to move fast."

"Why?" Gilbert muttered.

"The person that knocked you out was Matthew," Antonio said. "Alfred went with him. I saw them go into the capital building."

Gilbert looked up at his friend.

"How long was I out?" Gilbert asked, accepting the hand that helped him up, to his feet.

"A few minutes," Antonio nodded to him before he ran towards the building. Gilbert followed quickly after. Soldiers had begun combing through the city, but they ignored them easily enough. The soldiers all knew the faces of the people not to touch or shoot. Gilbert paused for a fraction of a second, however, when he jumped over a certain corpse. He looked back, and stiffened. Seeing Kiku with his eyes wide open to the sky, lying with multiple bullets through his entire body made him want to puke. He knelt down beside him, carefully closing his eyes, before he started running once again.

The doors to the capital building were wide open and they ran through them. Gilbert could ignore the pain for now. There was only one reason why Alfred would go with Matthew; a direct order from the king. This couldn't be good.

Gilbert took the lead when Antonio didn't know where to go. Gilbert knew the layout well enough to at least make it to the throne room. Sure enough, stopped just in front of the throne room was their entire group of assassins, leaders and just a few soldiers. Gilbert shoved through all of them at once.

"It's not…fucking…opening," Matthias grumbled, attempting to shove his way through the closed door.

"It's locked?" Gilbert asked and Arthur turned his attention to him, panic evident on his face.

"It's more than that," Francis sighed from where he was attempting to hack into the keypad. "I've unlocked it, but it's not opening. The other side must be broken."

"Well, get it the fuck open!" Gilbert snapped, joining Matthias in his attempt to blindly get it open.

"Charging into it with no reason will not get it to open!" Arthur scoffed and Gilbert growled before trying to listen into the room. It was locked, surely that meant Alfred and Matthew had to be in there too. "Antonio told you, didn't he?"

"We have to get in," Gilbert growled.

"Here," Tino shoved them aside, crowbar in hand, sliding it into a small section of the door that he could reach. Berwald helped him and, soon, the door creaked open just slightly. Gilbert attempted to peer through the crack that was created. He could see the king.

Everyone in front of the door froze at the sound of a gunshot. It was deathly quiet for moments afterwards. Gilbert watched the blood flow from the king's forehead as he slumped forward. No one dared to move a muscle.

After that came the unearthly screams from inside. Matthew and Alfred.

"Get this damn door open now!" Gilbert snapped before anyone else had the chance to. Gilbert joined with Berwald as the massive man pushed hard onto the crowbar to get the door open. Soon, the door was open just enough for someone to get through and Matthias stole his chance. Gilbert followed immediately after him, Arthur not too far behind. Gilbert was barely able to take in the scene of the brothers, both on the ground and a mess of tears, before he heard the two, quiet shots beside him. Matthias still had his gun aimed at them.

Gilbert glanced back and saw the darts in both of their necks as the brothers crumpled to the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Gilbert snapped at Matthias before he followed Arthur's lead and knelt in front of one of the twins. Arthur checked over Alfred and Gilbert took Matthew. He was sleeping soundly, his breathing even. He didn't have so much as a scratch on him, but the thick trails of tears down his face made Gilbert cringe.

"They just killed him," Matthias bluntly gestured to the corpse on the throne. "I can't trust either of them to be able to just sit down and have a talk."

"And that gives you full license to knock them out?" Arthur snapped.

"Remember your place," Matthias said simply and Arthur winced. "You're in no place to give orders, alright? I know what's best, I've been leading people a lot longer than you have."

Arthur huffed just as the people outside the door finally managed to force it open all the way and everyone pooled inside. Gilbert looked over Matthew carefully. He never expected a chance to be this close to him again, and their reunion had to end up like this?

The room was oddly quiet as everyone came to terms with the scene in front of them and Gilbert carefully maneuvered Matthew's head onto his lap. So what would happen to him now? And Alfred? Their entire purpose was to the king, even if Alfred didn't admit it flat out. He was gone now, and it was obvious no one else trusted them. Would they just get killed like the rest of their team?

"Look what I found," Lovino grunted victoriously and Gilbert looked up to the doorway. Lovino was holding a man back, a knife pressed against the man's neck. He looked like a noble, and he wasn't very good at getting away. "He's got a few secrets up his sleeve."

"Whatcha got, then?" Feliks asked the man, who stared at the scene in horror, his eyes lingering on Ivan's corpse.

"Go ahead, little pig," Lovino smirked. "Squeal all of the information you got or I'm gonna kill your ass."

"You wouldn't," the noble tried. "I'm too important."

"Wanna bet?" Lovino laughed slightly, digging in the knife further into the man's throat. The man gave out a strangled cry and Lovino stopped. "Well? Tell 'em what you just told me to save your life a few minutes ago!"

"The king…" the noble muttered. "The king wasn't the one truly in charge, he was a figurehead." Gilbert blinked in surprise. What? "The real people pulling the strings was a small group of elite nobles…I-Including me. Please let me go."

"Keep going," Lovino prompted him. There was more?

"It was our idea to have the assassin group," The noble supplied. "We wanted to kill the brats the second we found them, but Ivan wouldn't let us."

"And who are they?" Lovino asked, already knowing the answer. The noble paused and Lovino pressed the knife in until the man talked again.

"The figurehead king and queen from the country before the original revolution had twin boys," the noble squeaked, wheezing and wincing at the pain. "The only way to control them was this way. Please don't kill me."

"These two are their sons?" Matthias stared at him in shock. "I was told they died that day, there's no way."

"Then do a blood test, I swear I'm not lying," the noble pleaded. "Now let me go! I have a family, property I need to tend to. The chaos you caused will do nothing to help them."

"I think your property is far better off now," Arthur scoffed and Gilbert had no idea who to look to.

"This means we're not killing them, huh?" Lovino asked, eyeing Alfred and Matthew.

"No, we're not," Matthias said. "This actually gives me an idea."

"Then at least allow me to let out a bit of my anger," Lovino smirked and the noble started squirming even more.

"Is that all of the information you have to offer?" Arthur asked coldly, still not leaving Alfred's side.

"Yes, I-I swear, now let me go," the noble pleaded.

"Eh, I don't care what you do, just, like make it interesting, okay?" Feliks smirked.

"Any people in charge of the old country should be killed anyway," Matthias sighed heavily and Lovino smirked happily, nodding.

"I'll be happy to take out the trash," Lovino laughed and swiftly slit the man's throat, allowing him to drop to the ground with a permanent, surprised look on his face. Gilbert looked down at Matthew, resting and blissfully unaware of the events around him. So he was a prince, then? That explained the looks, he guessed. But he was far from able to be a leader, of any kind. He couldn't lead a country. And who knew how he'd act once he finally woke up after this turn of events. Would he still be torn up about the king's death? Could they even control the two brothers?

"I'm sorry, Birdie."

* * *

**The song I chose for this chapter's title is by the EGOIST and if any of you watched Psycho-Pass 2, you would know that it's the ending song to that anime and it just gives the perfect feel for what happened in this chapter and the feeling you get in the end. There were also a lot of characters there at the end and I couldn't make it flow very well with all of them having a part, so I just kind of imagine them all staring at what just happened like "well, shit". Because there's all five Nordics, Feliks, Ludwig, Antonio, and Francis, along with everyone else that had major parts there at the end. Anyway, I told y'all that this would be a nice, long chapter! This was fun to write and I hope it doesn't seem very rushed, because I felt rushed writing it, trying to put everything down in the rush of such a huge action sequence. Anyway, we're still not done, we've got a few chapters left till the end, and after that we can focus on backstories (because I bet a few of you want to know what really happened in Ivan's past now that you have two different stories).**

**Anyway, enough of me talking, please review! And have a nice day.**


	30. Tourniquet

Chapter 30. Tourniquet.

Gilbert just stared. Nervously. He was slumped on the floor…just staring at the door that separated him from Matthew. And Alfred. And all of those national leaders that Arthur was trying to control. It never ended well when multiple national leaders were in the same place, they had a tendency to fight only to serve their own ends. It made Gilbert's skin crawl knowing that Matthew was the one that they were fighting for. He and Alfred were just pawns to be used. He hadn't signed up for this. He signed up for a revolution, for a chance. He didn't sign up for what he felt for Matthew, didn't sign up for him to turn into some kind of prince. They'd already all been through enough, someone else could have the problems of being in charge of a country.

Finally, the door opened and Gilbert was on his feet. He was supposed to be standing guard, he had to look capable, otherwise he wouldn't get this job again.

"For the last time, I don't think this is a good idea," Arthur said clearly from behind the group of dissatisfied national leaders. Mathias and his group lead the way, quickly followed by Feliks and Yao, who had only recently showed up now that the fighting was over. His troops were meant to "keep the peace", as he put it.

"And I think you need to remember your place," Yao snipped simply and Arthur paused, flinching. "If we need the opinion of property, we'll ask, aru. For now, let us deliberate on the matter." Arthur gritted his teeth, seeming about to say something, but stopping himself. Gilbert stiffened as they walked past him, all of them giving him serious looks, as if questioning his loyalty, wondering if he'd turn on them. They probably trusted the twins even less.

"Gilbert," Arthur sighed heavily, leaning against the doorframe and looking at Gilbert. Arthur's voice cracked slightly and Gilbert sighed. As curious as he was about Arthur's past and President Yao's comment, now wasn't the time to bring it up. He could change the subject.

"How are they?" Gilbert asked, nodding further into the room.

"They're going to start waking up soon," Arthur sighed, looking further into the room. "Come inside, there's no need for you to stand guard, I don't know what those idiots were thinking."

"Why are we with them?" Gilbert asked, following Arthur into the safety of the closed room, away from the prying eyes of the new soldiers that held them captive. It was like nothing had changed, they were still under the charge of some other dictator.

"Could we have done this ourselves, honestly?" Arthur scoffed. "Could we raise a successful army against trained soldiers and Ivan? Could we have afforded that? Managed it? We needed them."

"And all of the strings that came attached to the deal?" Gilbert snapped, looking at the twins, who were resting on the same, large bed, their backs to each other. "I didn't sign up for this. I signed up for changing something. Do you know what they're planning? The same shit that Ivan went through. Put up a popular figure and let someone else pull the strings. We got what we wanted, what's stopping us from just taking charge as it is?"

"Who do we know that could possibly act as a leader?" Arthur scoffed. "We have second-rate nobles and peasants in our group and I'm…nothing. No one would listen to me or any of us. They'll listen to those two," Arthur motioned to Alfred and Matthew. "They'll listen to the leaders of the surrounding countries, out of fear if not respect. They're used to Ivan, what do you want?"

"I want something different, I want what I fought for," Gilbert stated. He flinched when Matthew stirred, rolling over onto his other side, facing Alfred now. "I risked my life for this, Feli died for this, everyone on their team died for this! And what do we have to show for it? No change?"

"There will be change," Arthur sighed. "I've been assured of a few things. Slavery will stop lurking in the shadows, there will be more freedom of expression, the layout of the cities will be improved."

"What good is the word of those guys?" Gilbert rolled his eyes. Alfred groaned and rolled onto his back. Arthur's attention snapped to him, going to his side of the bed immediately. This situation had to be handled carefully and Arthur knew how to handle Alfred better than anyone else.

"Alfred," Arthur said carefully. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, you're loud and clear," Alfred muttered, rubbing at his head.

"Do you…remember?" Arthur muttered and Alfred opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. It was stiflingly quiet in the room. Gilbert swore he could hear a pin drop in the anticipating silence.

"Yeah," Alfred muttered, closing his eyes once again, as if willing the world to go away. "I-"

"You don't have to," Arthur cut him off.

"It was me," Alfred moaned, turning onto his side, covering his face, but Gilbert was sure he wasn't crying. Matthew was oddly still. "I-I shot him…"

"Sh, Alfred," Arthur muttered, running his hands through Alfred's hair. "It's going to be okay, I promise. Please, stay calm."

"But, I," Alfred muttered and Arthur tore his arms down, looking the man in his eyes. Gilbert was right, he wasn't crying.

"Alfred," Arthur said clearly. "Focus. I need you to sit up for me," Alfred nodded slowly and did as he was told, swinging his legs over the side and never breaking eye contact with Arthur. "Now, I need you to tell me what happened. We only entered the room after it was over."

"Please tell me you're burying him." Alfred's eyes were wide, pleading. He gripped onto Arthur's shirt, seeming to hold onto him as if he would break if he let go. "He can't end up like us."

Arthur smiled sadly at him. "Alfred," Arthur sighed, running his hand through Alfred's hair again and tucking a few stray strands behind his ear. "What happened in that room?"

"He ordered me to shoot him," Alfred muttered darkly, staring at Arthur's chest pointedly, still not letting him go despite the fact that his hands were shaking. "I-I tried and I missed…And then he told Mattie to give me his gun. And I was told to shoot him again. I thought…He was…"

"Sh, Alfred," Arthur crooned gently and Gilbert glanced at Matthew, who still had yet to move a single inch during these events. His breathing was perfectly even and all evidence pointed to the fact that he was asleep, but Gilbert knew better than that.

"I wanted to," Alfred muttered, hitting his forehead to Arthur's chest. "He was so…sad…miserable. I wanted to put him out of it…"

"Alfred," Arthur sighed, patting the man's back. "I have something important to tell you. You know of your past and your parents' death, am I correct?" Alfred made a choked noise before nodding against the shirt, shaking like a leaf, threatening to fall off of his branch. "Your parents were not just simple citizens. When this country was founded, there were figurehead rulers set in place, a King and Queen of sorts, that listened to the orders of the higher ups, the leaders of the surrounding countries. They were killed during the first revolution, leaving behind two twin sons."

Alfred pulled back at stared at Arthur, almost terrified. Gilbert knew just what he was thinking. The old King and Queen were puppets, Ivan was a puppet. Alfred and Matthew would be puppets, too. He would be trapped and miserable, just like Ivan. Unable to sleep and completely controlled. They were assassins, trained from birth, they weren't rulers.

"You won't have to do anything alone," Arthur assured him softly, looking him right in his eyes. "Neither of you. You may not know much about ruling, but the leaders of the surrounding countries are more than willing to help."

"You mean they'll tell me what to do?" Alfred asked darkly.

"More or less," Arthur sighed.

Matthew stood up then. Alfred jumped slightly in surprise, and Arthur seemed completely taken aback. Matthew didn't so much as say a word, eyes fixed on the ground, as he stormed out of the room, disregarding the fact that he didn't even have shoes on. Gilbert didn't hesitate to follow him.

"Mattie!" Gilbert called after him, jogging after him to catch up with him since he was walking so fast.

"Go away," Matthew muttered.

"No, you need to talk about this!" Gilbert stayed firm.

"I said go away!" Matthew snapped, turning to glare at Gilbert with harsh, indigo eyes shining with tears Matthew refused to shed, at least, not in front of others. He had been betrayed, left alone, ripped away from the one that lead him through his life for…years…He was broken. And he was trying as hard as he could not to show it. Gilbert stopped walking, watching as Matthew walked as fast as he could, darting around a corner. Gilbert let out a heavy sigh, leaning against a wall. What good was he? He was just some traitor…

* * *

Matthew huffed, taking deep breaths as his feet padded loudly across the floor. He had to keep walking, he couldn't afford to sit and think. He'd been awake since Alfred woke up, he heard the entire conversation. Matthew was to be…controlled by the rebels? This soon after the death of his own king? He should have died fighting for the man like he was sure Kiku did. He hadn't seen the man, surely he'd been killed. He felt his entire body quivering as he fought back the tears he refused to acknowledge. He stopped at a window and moved towards the screen, pressing the button to open it, allowing in the air from the outside. He stared at the capital, which looked unchanged, though Matthew couldn't help but feel like he couldn't recognize anything about it. The window sill was fairly large, Matthew noticed, with plenty of room to sit down. Matthew wasted no time in getting comfortable, his legs swinging below him.

He heard someone walking by long before they noticed him, but Matthew didn't dare look at them. He had never strayed from the king and the rebels had won, leaving him at their mercy. Maybe Alfred could trust them, but Matthew was far from it. He couldn't trust anyone, not Arthur, not Alfred…not Gilbert.

"So, you are Matthew," the person behind him said, after taking a moment to be startled by his presence. "I didn't know you were awake."

"Well, I am," Matthew said bluntly. The man talked like a practiced noble. What business did a noble have becoming a revolutionary? "Do you want something?"

"The city can be pretty," the man sighed, leaning against the sill to Matthew's left. There was plenty of room for him to take up his own space. Matthew took his features in, remembering when Alfred gave them detailed explanations of what everyone in the rebels looked like. This was Francis. "It has its moments, I admit."

"What do you want?" Matthew snapped. He was to be forced into this role of prince he had no idea about, he was angry, he was confused, he was hurt. He still couldn't get the image of Ivan with a hole through his head out of his mind.

"You do not trust anyone, which is understandable," Francis sighed. "Though I wish you could hear me out. I realize I've given you no reason, but, humor me. What could it hurt?"

Matthew looked at him. Francis seemed harmless, with light blue eyes, only slightly clouded with dirty things like death and destruction. Matthew's eyes were far from that innocent. Matthew nodded for him to continue and Francis nodded in thanks.

"I grew up as a rather privileged noble, as my father had been on the right side of the first revolution," Francis said simply, staring out at the city. A small breeze whipped past them. "My father had whatever he wanted, I was allowed to do what I wanted. One day, he took me to an…auction of sorts. Where people were sold as property. I was disgusted, but everyone around me took it as something…normal. I started looking around. I saw a city filled with filthy people living lives hardly worth living. I watched as people lived in their own filth and didn't change anything about it because the king said it was alright. I saw nobility that lived lavishly, without a care in the world, able to break the rules because they created them. This country made me sick, down to its very core. I hated it and I directed that towards the country's leader, its king. And so I fought against him with everything I had, going so far as to kill my own father. Now that the king's dead, I look at this country and see that all of my struggle and noticing things never changed anything. What I fought for, what we all fought for, it still doesn't exist. At least not yet. We didn't do anything."

"My only purpose in life was to obey him," Matthew muttered. "To do what he said, like a good servant, assassin, whatever name you want to use. I always thought this whole time that the king had a reason for it, for everything. He wasn't in control at all, was he?" Francis looked at him, surprised. Like it was a wonder Matthew figured it out. "I could tell, especially in the end. He was making stupid decisions, decisions Ivan would never make. Someone else was guiding him, telling him what to do. What to say. He wasn't happy. Alfred was right…" Matthew hugged his legs close to his chest while he stared into the city. He was…terrified. He couldn't do this, he couldn't handle this. He wasn't brave enough.

"When I started out trying to fight, I was alone," Francis said. "I had no one to help me and I was trying to think of all of these ideas and I was far too terrified to try any of them. My fear didn't go away when I joined with Arthur. I was about ready to run screaming as we attacked this building. And I've learned a few things. Bravery doesn't have to be large acts of heroics or involving daredevil antics. Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying 'I will try again tomorrow'. And I know. Trying again is hard, but that is where the courage comes in."

"What should I even try again?" Matthew scoffed, shaking his head. The man's words had struck a chord with him. He was terrified of what was to come, the idea of being treated as a puppet. He was terrified because he no longer had the king to guide him.

"Trust," Francis shrugged. "None of us have given you any reason to trust us as we know that full well. However, in light of certain circumstances, perhaps you should try opening your mind. That is plenty of courage and I have no doubt you hold it."

"I've never thought that this city was pretty," Matthew shook his head, letting out a long breath. Francis waited patiently. "It's always been really gray and dull. When we went to Merkatus, I was able to see a world of color. Do you think this country will be able to look like that?"

Matthew looked at Francis directly in the eye and Francis smiled slightly, giving a light shrug.

"I guess you'll have to find out some way to clip those strings they have over you and Alfred," Francis smiled. "And be brave enough to take charge and make sure it does."

Matthew nodded, a small smile tracing his face.

* * *

**Feels. Feels. Everywhere. Choke on them. More feels to come soon, I promise. I think there's two more chapters of main plot and then it's backstory time! Lots of feels because you're getting backstories for EVERYONE, including the ones that died. So you take that. Haha. Anyway, I'm hyper, it's late for me, I'm going to go to sleep.**

**Have a good day everyone and please review.**


	31. End

Chapter 31. Immortals.

Arthur and Alfred were silent beside each other. Alfred had let out all of the emotions he was capable of. He had stopped clinging to Arthur some time ago, staring down at the sheets still covering half of his body. Arthur sighed at the display. Alfred was…reverting. Going inside of himself, blocking out the emotions he'd been slowly gaining during his time with Arthur. But what other choice did he have? Alfred was a killer, he was good with handling death, even if it was close to him. This was what he was trained to do.

"So, what now?" Alfred asked eventually, his voice finally coming out evenly.

Arthur sighed. "They won't change their minds on this matter." Arthur hated dealing with nobility, even if they were national leaders. They only cared about getting their own way, having an advantage. The little people they crushed in the process were of no consequence. "If you could talk to your brother, perhaps convince him to go along with this…"

"He doesn't trust me," Alfred shook his head, smiling with no humor behind it. "I'm just supposed to be a leader now? Forget everything I've known all of my life? Just because I'm some other figure head's son? Why can't they just prop up someone else? No one will know."

"There's a perfectly good option right here," Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The way they see it, there's no way to be caught in a lie in this case, as they have done a blood test, they know it's true. And what else do either of you have to live for? You won't have to do much leading on your own, that is a promise. It will be rather easy when the decisions are made for you."

"Was Ivan just that?" Alfred muttered darkly. "A puppet? Were any of the decisions he made his own?"

"It was his decision and his decision alone to have you kill him," Arthur pressed and Alfred flinched, but looked up at him. His blue eyes that used to be bright were dull now, back to what they were when Arthur had met him. And he was lost, terribly, terribly lost. "That much can be assured."

"Why me?" Alfred muttered, glaring at the sheets. "Why not Matthew? Why not himself? Why not just some random soldier."

"He told you that himself," Arthur offered. Alfred had told him the story Ivan said; that Ivan was the one that maimed the children. Whether or not it was true, Ivan said it to make it easier for the two to deal with his death. If he was something vile, they wouldn't feel bad for spilling his blood. "It was retribution. He thought he deserved to die for what he did to you two."

"I can't believe that," Alfred shook his head furiously, as if trying to shake out the memory from his head. "He…I…We…"

"Alfred," someone said from the door. Arthur hadn't even noticed it open. Arthur looked back and saw that Matthew was standing in the doorway, alone, though Gilbert was behind him a few steps. "We need to talk." Alfred nodded numbly and Arthur simply walked out of the room. This was a matter they had to deal with themselves, alone. Arthur had no place. He could barely understand the inner-workings of those two and their minds. How could he convince them of anything.

"Francis talked to him," Gilbert sighed. "I couldn't even utter a word to him without him getting pissed off and Francis is the one that calms him down."

"What did he say?" Arthur asked, looking back at Gilbert and finally away from the door. Who knew what the twins would be discussing, whether they should go along with this, trick everyone into thinking they would go along with it…or worse go along with their killing instinct…

"Something about courage," Gilbert shrugged. "I couldn't listen very well from how far away I was. But something changed in him after it. He still won't talk to me, though."

"Give him time," Arthur muttered, offering a small smile.

"They're not the same," Gilbert sighed. "Whatever happened to both of them, it's like it's been erased, it's too hard to deal with. It's just easier to be a mindless assassin."

"Perhaps it would be easier, in this situation, to be mindless," Arthur said. "Ivan had the right idea, he's the perfect example."

* * *

Alfred had noticed it the second he woke up. His arms and legs had been replaced. That already signified that he was something important, something more than an assassin. And, yet, he didn't feel very important. He wasn't able to bring any input into the situation, wasn't even able to talk to the country leaders around them to convince them of anything else. Wasn't even able to say that he didn't want his prosthetics changed. It meant nothing if Ivan wasn't the one doing it. All he had were the assassins that were supposed to be around to "protect" them, as Arthur had put it…and his brother. Alfred stood when his brother entered the room, Arthur ducking out as if the room was on fire. He didn't want to touch this kind of conversation, either.

"I can't forgive you," Matthew muttered, finally, after the suffocating silence.

"I can't forgive myself, either," Alfred shrugged helplessly. "You know everything, huh?"

"I don't get a choice, right?" Matthew leaned against a wall, looking at Alfred's feet. Alfred looked at Matthew, but only because he wasn't looking at him. "I just…wake up after they knocked me out because they didn't trust me and my motives…and then they trust me to run a country they probably don't even care about."

"The team I was with didn't want this," Alfred shook his head and took a small step forward. Matthew didn't move away. That was a good thing. Improvement. "They…"

"They fought for their ideals," Matthew muttered darkly. "You don't get that when you win a revolution. What did _you _fight for?"

"I saw…" Alfred licked his lips and leaned against the bed. "When we went to Merkatus, I saw a city where people were happy, where they had time to do what they wanted. When I was in the cities that housed revolutionaries, kids were able to have fun and adults could just…walk around. I know Ivan was working on it, working out the kinks, and everything should have been fine, but…"

"That's only if Ivan was really running things, isn't it?" Matthew sighed and finally looked up, not exactly meeting Alfred's eyes but close enough. "You wanted things to be like that?"

"I wanted what Ivan said he wanted," Alfred sighed. "I don't…I don't know what he was like, really. But I'm more than willing to settle on remembering him as the king he showed us. I don't care if that's not what he was like," Alfred took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, while Matthew looked at his own feet, "but that's all I've got of him. I don't care about all of these what-ifs about his past or any of that, okay? Can that be one thing we agree on, at least?"

"Fine," Matthew nodded. He took a deep breath, looking Alfred in the eye. "Okay."

Alfred nodded in response. "So…looks like we're a team now, whether we like it or not, huh?"

"I don't think there will be much chance of either of us leaving," Matthew half-joked, but Alfred still winced. "We'll still be obeying orders, not too far from the original plan."

"You're for it?" Alfred asked.

"One of your friends," Matthew shook his head. "He told me something interesting. If we're believing in an Ivan that was a good man, that stayed up for days on end for the sake of the country he believed in, then I think that, while he was being controlled, he tried to make it work. He tried to go beyond the nobles that controlled him and make things better. If he did that, then we can do the same."

"Then I'm in, too," Alfred nodded. Matthew blinked at him, half in surprise. "I'm not separating from you again, Mattie." There was a moment of silence that stretched between them for quite some time. "Promise me one thing, alright?"

"What?"

"The first thing we do," Alfred looked him dead in the eye, "is we make sure slavery is illegal."

Matthew gave him a long look before offering a small smile.

"Deal."

* * *

"Alright, so the story is that your parents were killed and you were held as prisoners," Mathias said clearly. "They didn't have the heart to kill a couple of children and you were raised by servants. We found you when we took the capital building. Got that?"

"Yes," Alfred nodded, walking beside Matthew. The leaders of Merkatus were in front of them, Yao and Feliks behind them. The assassins were behind them and in front of them, on the lookout just in case. A country just after a revolution was a terrifying place, anyone could try anything. Up until the new government was proclaimed. In just a few minutes.

"No one is going to know about your past," Mathias made it clear, there was no room to argue. Alfred nearly smirked when the idea came to mind that he wasn't Ivan. Alfred felt zero obligation to actually follow any orders. He was just doing it out of the kindness of his own heart at this rate. He glanced at Matthew, who seemed to be biting back the same smirk. It did them some good, gave them some confidence that they were on the same page; but definitely not the same page as everyone else. "Am I clear?"

"Of course," Matthew nodded. Alfred noticed Arthur look back at them from the front, beside Gilbert. They equally shared a look of nervousness, like they weren't sure how this was going to go. Alfred hadn't even gotten a chance to talk to anyone from the revolutionary group. In fact, the leaders decided that it was too dangerous for the two assassins to be allowed to walk around wherever they wanted, and so they were forced to stay in their room for quite some time before they were "summoned" for the unveiling event. The news of Matthew leaving the room must have left them nervous.

"All of our security and military are outside," Yao reported, mostly for the benefit of Mathias, who seemed to be the one running the show at this rate. "Most of the country has made their way into the capital for the announcement and who knows how they're going to react."

"Who knows, maybe they'll be, like, totally stoked," Feliks shrugged. "I would be, finally getting rid of-"

"Don't be an idiot," Yao snapped at him and Feliks snapped his mouth shut. They were still scared of them. After all, they were the two best assassins on the continent, at the very least. That did give Alfred a little bit of pride. One good thing to come out of being trained for his entire life.

"Wait here," Mathias said clearly as they approached a door that lead to the entrance of the capital building. Alfred could only guess what kind of set up there was in front of it, but there must have been a system to spread the news across the country, most likely through television or radio or something of the like. The leaders of Merkatus walked out of the door, most likely to lead up to the big announcement. Feliks and Yao carefully stepped around them to join the five, closing the door loudly.

"They're scared," Alfred noted quietly, beside Matthew. He regarded his clothing, the most elaborate and fancy clothing that their country definitely couldn't afford. They certainly were fitting their role of decorative figureheads.

"They should be," Matthew said proudly. The other assassins stood around them, though not close enough to hear them. They weren't necessarily afraid, simply wary. This was it.

"Alfred," Arthur said and Alfred glanced at him. He would do what he could for him, knowing full well what he dealt with in his past. But Alfred wasn't entirely sure if he could interact with him like he did before. So much had happened, so much was going to happen… "Good luck. You as well, Matthew." Matthew nodded to him.

"Don't fuck up, alright?" Lovino offered to them. Alfred could hear the faint reverberations of Mathias talking through a microphone, but he couldn't hear what he was saying.

"I'll try my best," Alfred said simply. Lovino was certainly adapting well to the fact that he couldn't kill Matthew. Perhaps he planned on it, now just wasn't the right time to try. Alfred noticed Matthew catch Francis' eye with a slight nod. He still refused to look at Gilbert. Alfred leaned close to Matthew to say something without the others hearing. "You know," Alfred whispered, "all considering, you should try to do something about Gilbert."

"I'm…working on it," Matthew sighed. "I accepted you back, didn't I?"

Alfred hummed before changing the subject. "So…do you think we'll get to kill anyone?"

"God, I hope so," Matthew laughed slightly.

The doors opened.

Alfred could clearly see, through the faceless crowd, Feliciano, Elizabeta, Roderich, Kiku, Ivan, all of the nameless faces he had committed to memory. Alfred and Matthew stepped out together and Alfred was blinded by the flash of the crowd, deafened by the roar of the audience. Mathias was obviously very good at riling up a crowd for a desired end. The people before him didn't even know he'd killed hundreds of people just like them. If Ivan was still alive, he probably would have killed hundreds more.

Alfred clenched his jaw. He wasn't used to all of this attention. He preferred living among the shadows, where only a select few knew of his existence. Matthew tensed as well and Alfred latched their hands together. The whole country had their eyes on them, quite possibly the world, if Alfred knew anything about it.

He gave the best, most innocent smile he could muster, moving his and Matthew's hands up proudly above their heads. Matthew echoed his smile as the crowd's roar surged.

If they wanted an innocent prince who had been trapped with his brother in a cell for years, that was what he would give them. No one could see the murderous intent lingering behind their eyes. And they never would until it was too late.

* * *

**And we're done! Yay! This took forever for me to do, partly because of the mess of graduation around me and my family, but also partly because it was very difficult to get out, no idea why. I'm very happy with the ending, though. They're not exactly back to normal, but they're figuring it out. And they've got their own little Ivan to cling to in their heads.**

**Anywho, main plot is done! If anyone has any questions, PM me or whatever and I'll answer them happily. We still have some backstories and that might explain a few things. I'm going through all of the major characters, including Ivan, don't worry. And then I'll be officially done! Yay!**

**Anyway, please review! And I'll see you next time with a combined backstory of Feli, Lovi, and Antonio.**


	32. My Sunshine 1

Backstory 1. My Sunshine Part One.

**(A/N: So this got kind of complicated with time skips, just know that a line is a long time skip, anything longer than a few days, and a star is a short time skip. It'll help things move along because of how this turned out.)**

Antonio had heard about them. He was cleaning his gun, lounging on top of a roof with a few other soldiers when he heard about them. The "newbies", the "crybabies", the ones that couldn't handle it as soldiers. Antonio continued to watch as the people milled around. His job was to shoot those that strayed from the path. It was only a few minutes until 9, when everyone had to be at work. If he saw anyone out past that, he had full license to shoot. He was such a good shot, all of the other soldiers left that business to him while they just talked around him. He was never much of a socialite.

"I heard they just run away from any old battle," one of the soldiers snickered. "They're told to sit on the front lines of the border and they'll start cryin'!"

It was 9 o'clock now. Antonio shifted as he looked carefully through the scope of his gun from the top of the building. He was the best at sniping, normal guns were alright, but he was more comfortable with his rifle.

"They're brothers, but they're in different troops, right?" another one asked.

"Oh, I heard that they're crying for each other all the time!" they all howled with laughter.

Antonio winced at the sound. There was someone on the street that had been trying to sneak around. They looked up at their group at sound of their laughter. Antonio sighed and went ahead and shot the man. The shot rang out loudly in the empty street, most likely scaring away anyone else that was trying to sneak around. He shifted the gun onto his shoulder to look at the others behind him. They had jumped slightly at his shot but they were back to normal now, continuing their conversation. Antonio wasn't about to intrude.

"I heard one of them tried to flake out," one soldier smirked. "Tried to leave, the little traitor. I say he shouldda been sent to that capital building so he couldda been killed."

"Don't most traitors go there anyway?" another one scoffed.

"Nah, he was sent to the border, far away from his brother," a soldier shook his head. "Guess the king was too busy to deal with 'em."

"Don't you know anything?" a soldier laughed. "The king doesn't do it himself. He's got his secret service to do it for him."

"You know what I heard?" a soldier leaned in closely and the others followed suit, like they were keeping a secret. "I heard that it's kids, he's got there killing people?"

"What the hell have you been drinking?" another one scoffed, leaning back. "No way there's kids there."

"Well, I mean, they're probably grown up now," the soldier shrugged.

"Whatever, doesn't matter who's there because I'm sure as hell not going," another soldier stood up and stretched, looking at Antonio. "You finish our job or what, Toni?"

Antonio simply nodded, glancing at the street. Other soldiers had already cleaned up the body. No others would come out if they knew what was good for them.

"Quiet as ever," another one laughed as the rest stood up. Antonio followed suit, allowing his gun to rest against his shoulder as he did so. "I don't think I've ever heard you say anything since I met you!" They all chorused into laughs and Antonio simply shrugged. He had nothing to say, what was the point in saying anything?

"Let's get going back, we should report in a few minutes anyway," another one shrugged.

"How much you wanna bet that they're gonna run for it again today?" a soldier laughed as they walked on, down the building. Antonio did wonder about those soldiers they had talked about. They were thinking about deserting? Afraid of fighting? They must have been drafted, that wasn't a question. But the true question was…what were they going to do next?

* * *

"Antonio Carriedo?" the voice rang out clearly in the large hall, where Antonio was eating. His gun rested in its case beside him as he sat around his small troop. Their work for the day had been done for a while. It was a week since Antonio had first heard about those mysterious soldiers and he hadn't received any news since. Everyone in the hall quieted down to look at the commanding officer at the doorway. Antonio simply stood obediently. "Come with me," the soldier nodded into the hallway and Antonio nodded, following after him, carrying his gun delicately with him. Conversation resumed almost immediately afterwards.

"Yes, sir?" Antonio asked as he followed the soldier through the hallway.

"New recruit," the man said simply, as if he really didn't want to be there. He was obviously used to being in the capital building. "Well, not exactly new. He's been re-assigned. You're in charge of insuring he gets acclimated properly. His name is Lovino Vargas."

Antonio nodded and followed the man to the end of the hallway. There, standing beside the door to outside, was a soldier. He was leaning against a wall with a slump that made Antonio question if he was actually a soldier. He had dark brown hair with a single curl that peaked Antonio's interest and bored amber eyes that held a fire in them he hadn't seen before. The higher ranked soldier left without another word and Lovino scoffed, shaking his head.

"Fucking figures, leaving me without a second thought," Lovino grumbled before looking at Antonio, taking him in. "So, who the fuck are you? You in charge of me?"

"Antonio Carriedo," Antonio said dutifully, nodding.

"Whatever," Lovino rolled his eyes. "Won't be here for long, anyway."

"How come?" Antonio asked curiously. Sure, there was food waiting for him to finish eating, but he was curious now. Just who was this man?

"None of your business," Lovino sneered. "So, what now?"

"I don't know," Antonio shrugged and Lovino simply blinked at him.

"What? No big fucking mission to go kill some idiots or something like that?" Lovino scoffed. "Isn't that what most of you do in the capital?"

"My time to kill people already passed," Antonio shrugged and Lovino blinked at him.

"You're kidding, right?" Lovino stared at him.

Antonio just shook his head. He couldn't help but smile a little. This was…kind of fun. When was the last time he had fun? No situation really came to mind.

"How many did you kill today?" Lovino asked, narrowing his eyes. It was like he was testing him…

"Hm," Antonio muttered, making a show of thinking it through, tapping his chin. In reality, he could come up with the number in an instant, but it was growing to be fun to mess with Lovino. "Three."

"And what'd you kill 'em for?" Lovino asked. Distrust laced his voice and Antonio realized just how tired the man was, bags tracing under his eyes. But he shifted in the light so it was hard to tell.

"They were supposed to be at work at 9," Antonio said. "They weren't."

"And that means you kill them?" Lovino stiffened, glaring harshly at him. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because it was an order," Antonio answered easily. "That's what soldiers do."

"Fuck you," Lovino spat out, glaring at the ground with his tired eyes. He looked about ready to fall asleep at any time. "I can't wait to get out of here…"

"Perhaps we should get you some rest first," Antonio said simply. This was quite possibly the longest conversation he had ever had. He had never talked much, even with his family, when they were alive. Most of the time, he was alone. Joining the military simply gave him something to do, rather than be alone and do nothing. It at least taught him that he had a skill; killing people.

"I don't need to take orders from you," Lovino snapped, stepping away from him, like Antonio would force him to do it or something like that.

"Okay," Antonio smiled at him and Lovino looked at him like he had three heads. Antonio couldn't stop the small smile that wormed its way onto his face.

"Good," Lovino muttered, pushing himself off of the wall. "I'm…uh…gonna go to my room."

"Want any help finding it?" Antonio offered, knowing just the reaction he would get.

Lovino stiffened and glared at him. "No," Lovino growled out before walking down the hall where all of the rooms for the soldiers were. Antonio hummed contentedly. Lovino would report to him tomorrow, now that would surely be interesting.

*Time Skip*

And it really was interesting. Lovino didn't say a word to him in the morning and just followed him as Antonio joined with the rest of his troop. He was…oddly silent as they walked through the city, along the backstreets no one should walk through. They made their way up a building that had been mostly destroyed in the revolution. No one lived there, at least no one should. Once they were on the roof, Antonio wasted no time in setting up his gun.

"So, this is all you do, is it?" Lovino scoffed once the other soldiers started talking. He spoke quietly, like he was afraid of the others listening. "Shoot people?"

"Yes," Antonio smiled slightly, adjusting his scope. He looked at the clock. He had a few minutes before he had to shoot people.

"Why?" Lovino asked.

"It's orders," Antonio shrugged.

"So just because the king fucking says it, means you have to?" Lovino snapped and Antonio looked at him.

"Yes, I believe so," Antonio nodded thoughtfully.

"Holy shit, is he talking?" a soldier behind them asked, stopping their conversation. It was only about a minute until 9. Antonio really didn't have the time for this right now. He couldn't fail this mission, everyone knew what that resulted in.

"What, this guy doesn't talk to you?" Lovino scoffed. "Fucking talks just fine to me…"

"What's he talk about?" a soldier laughed.

"Please shut up," Antonio sighed once it was 9 o'clock. There were a few people still walking around, though there was a single one that was definitely up to no good, acting purposefully sneaky. Antonio's shots rang out clearly and he shot fast, hitting three of the four people. He allowed the one that was running to get to work on time his life, at least for today. It was painfully quiet around him afterwards and he looked up from his gun, glancing back at his troop. Lovino looked surprised, to say the least, and the rest of the troop seemed speechless, though that was mostly because that was the first time they had heard his voice. "What do you want me to talk about?"

*Time Skip*

"You just…killed them?" Lovino snapped, gripping hard onto Antonio's wrist before he was able to walk into the cafeteria. Antonio allowed himself to be dragged to the side.

"Yes," Antonio nodded.

"Why?" Lovino growled at him. He didn't look mad at Antonio, in general, more like pissed off about his situation.

"Orders," Antonio shrugged. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"That's it?" Lovino asked. Antonio shrugged once again. "Don't you think that's a little fucked up? You're killing people for not getting to work on time!"

"Yes," Antonio shrugged. He wasn't exactly stupid, he could realize how bad the situation is. But everything required sacrifice. This country went through a revolution only a few years ago, sacrifices had to be made in order to keep the peace.

"Then stop it," Lovino said, nearly shouted, but he was smart enough to realize that that kind of talk wasn't good, especially around this many soldiers. "What's the fucking point in doing this? It's wrong. I…if you know what's going on and that it's wrong, why don't you join those revolutionaries?"

Antonio sighed, a hand on Lovino's, and pushed him away.

"I believe in a sense of loyalty," Antonio said, clearly. "Regardless of who is right and who is wrong."

"Do you know what I'm loyal to?" Lovino snapped. "My ideals. What I think is right. I'm not loyal to this shit fest, and I refuse to fight for them. I'm just waiting for the day they decide to kill me. I'm risking my life just for my fucking brother and you're sitting here killing people because you got swept up in this mess and you refuse to break loyalty?"

"For now," Antonio nodded.

"Then go fuck off," Lovino growled, walking away from him. Antonio blinked, watching him go. He had no idea what the man would do on his own, but it also seemed like he had no intention of being alone. The way he looked at Antonio, especially when he talked about his brother…he was lonely, he was afraid. He was the most human person Antonio had ever met. He just might change his mind about something…

* * *

"I'm running."

"I don't see why you're telling me this."

"I mean it."

"Did you mean it last time, too?"

Lovino glared at him. They were on another roof, waiting for nine o'clock. It had been a few weeks since Lovino had tried to convince Antonio of switching sides. He had said he would leave multiple times and Antonio continued to keep him out of trouble when he failed. Antonio didn't know what came over him, but he found himself cleaning Lovino's messes before they could be seen, blaming things on random citizens to protect him.

"I swear," Lovino muttered. "I was able to contact a revolutionary. I know what I'm doing."

"Will another revolution truly help this country?" Antonio asked him. The other soldiers had long since lost the marvel of seeing Antonio talk. They were now off on their own, talking about nothing in particular. Antonio didn't quite care what they did, they were all the same.

"It's better than nothing," Lovino grumbled. "But I'm fucking doing it. You bastards won't be able to catch me."

"I bet I could," Antonio smiled slightly. "I would be able to see from very far away."

"Would you really shoot me?" Lovino asked, staring at him.

"I don't know," Antonio shrugged. "Maybe. I guess we'll find out."

"Just…think about it, okay?" Lovino snapped. "I mean, you've been helping me, you don't want me to get caught. I know a part of you wants to do this! You're a fucking idiot, but you're not stupid."

"You really got a revolutionary willing to meet you?" Antonio asked curiously. It was nine. He looked through his scope. He couldn't find anyone today, oddly enough. That was good.

"I've got a dinner party," Lovino sighed. "And I've got a face to look for. He knows I'm coming, he won't care if there's another person."

"Why haven't you really left before?" Antonio asked, looking him in the eye, but not taking his finger off the trigger.

"I…" Lovino glared at the ground under him. "I can't do it on my own, okay?" Antonio blinked in surprise. Lovino must have swallowed quite a bit of pride to get that out. "Someone's gotta come with and you're the only bastard around willing to do it."

"How do you know I'm willing?" Antonio asked.

"You haven't shot me yet," Lovino shrugged.

Antonio sighed, resting his gun on the ground. This man was going to be the death of him. He pulled out his pistol that he was required to carry with him. The soldiers behind them weren't even looking. He stood up and barely even bothered to aim before shooting all of them. No one could tell the difference between the other gunshots across the country at this time of day.

"Hurry before I change my mind," Antonio said, kneeling down to pack up his rifle.

"Did you just…" Lovino stared at him with wide eyes.

"Yes," Antonio nodded. "We can't change that decision now. And you can't take it back."

"Fine," Lovino cleared his throat, kicking at the ground. "The party's at 7."

*Time Skip*

Antonio discovered very quickly that he didn't like parties. He was a man that lived in a town where there wasn't much to it. The people there grew up to work or go into the military. There were no nobles where he came from. And yet, he stood there in a stolen suit beside Lovino, also in a stolen suit, with a glass of champagne in his hand.

"You look uncomfortable," Lovino noted, happily drinking most of his champagne in one go. "You know, I'm not used to this shit, either."

"I'm worried about my gun, mostly," Antonio muttered. They had stored it in a place they both assumed no one would go near, as he obviously couldn't carry it into the party with him. In some alley behind the most disgusting trash cans Antonio had ever seen. He really was worried about it. If someone were to steal it from him, they probably wouldn't even know how to use it and Antonio didn't know what he'd do if someone misused his gun.

"It'll be fine," Lovino shrugged. "Two fucking seconds finding this guy, talking to him, and then we're good to go. Nothing to worry about. You'll get your gun in a few minutes, I swear."

"What does this guy look like, then?" Antonio asked curiously.

"Long, blonde hair," Lovino sighed, looking around. "Blue eyes, looks kinda like a douche, if you ask me. He's not hosting it, but he's pretty popular, there's gotta be a lot of ladies around him." Antonio took a swig form his drink. It definitely wasn't strong enough. He didn't enjoy being very social, especially not at events like this.

A new song started at their little dance and Antonio sighed. All of a sudden, a girl quickly walked up to him and he blinked in surprise. She looked like a young girl, probably didn't know anything about what the soldiers were doing or all of the death around her just so that she could go to parties like this without a care in the world. She was shy.

"Um, excuse me, if you don't mind," she muttered, barely making eye contact with him, "would you…please…dance with me, sir?"

Antonio had no idea what to say. He didn't know about the etiquette for places like this. Not at all, and there was a huge chance that he would maybe mess something up.

"You go ahead, lover boy," Lovino rolled his eyes. "I'm going to look for our guy."

"Um," Antonio muttered, looking after Lovino as he walked away. Antonio didn't know how to dance. He looked back at the girl. Who was he to say no to such a pretty, innocent girl? "Sure," Antonio flashed the best smile he knew (completely oblivious of the fact that it made the girl blush even harder). He handed his half-full glass to a server that passed him by. He could figure this out, he was a soldier after all. He was used to dancing with weapons, in a fight. This was sort of the same thing, he figured. He glanced around at the other party guests and they assumed the right position, swinging right into tempo. He was pretty good at this, if he did say so himself.

"You're new, I don't think I've seen you before," the girl said, hoping to start conversation and Antonio nearly flinched. He wasn't good at this. He was hoping they could be quiet, that was what he was best at.

Regardless, Antonio offered a laugh. "I'm just not from the capital," Antonio offered. "My family lives a little closer to the border with Merkatus. It was my idea to go to the capital tonight."

"Well, I'm glad it was your idea," the girl blushed slightly and Antonio smiled. So, he wasn't bad at this socializing thing. Okay.

"Me, too," Antonio smiled. They continued into idle conversation and Antonio actually lost track of the song. It wasn't long until the song ended and the girl departed with a small curtsey. He bowed in response, blinking after her.

"My, my, you are quite good at this," a man chuckled behind him and Antonio looked back, jumping in surprise. The man seemed perfectly relaxed, two glasses of champagne in his hand, one of which he offered to Antonio. He had long, blonde hair and blue eyes, though Antonio wasn't going to immediately assume anything about him. "For someone who's not a noble."

"Do I really come off that way?" Antonio laughed easily, gladly taking the drink. Maybe that would make this even easier… He took a swig.

"Not obviously," the man shrugged. "It helps when you have the posture of a soldier and you walk in with someone who's looking for me."

"I'm afraid Lovino is a little easier to spot," Antonio shrugged. "He sticks out way more than me."

"Indeed he does," the man nodded. "Now, would you mind telling me why two soldiers are trying to contact me about joining the revolution?"

"I personally don't know much about it," Antonio said honestly, drinking more. It was definitely making this easier. "I'm following my friend."

"And he convinced you?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"So far, I guess we'll find out," Antonio mused. He finished off his drink. He could definitely use a little more. The man in front of him had only sipped at it delicately. The man nodded thoughtfully.

"Can I offer you another drink?" the man offered after a short while. "The night is still young, my friend, and I believe I need a few drinks in me before we talk a little more about this."

"Why not?" Antonio laughed slightly. He was more than willing for a little more to drink.

In a matter of about two hours, Antonio discovered a few things. With an unlimited supply, champagne can definitely get you drunk. Also, he grew a lot more talkative than usual when he's drunk. Then there's the fact that he was sure that Francis (he learned that name after a few drinks) could be a good friend, given different circumstances. Maybe these were good circumstances, Antonio didn't know.

"I believe you could be very useful," Francis chuckled as they lounged on two couches off to the side of the dancefloor. He had a healthy glow to himself that told Antonio that he, himself was drunk as well. "How many girls have tried to talk with you?"

"The only I've counted are the ones that wanted to have sex with me," Antonio snickered. "And that was about six, I believe."

Francis laughed and looked at some random direction. He'd been doing that a lot, but Antonio was five glasses past caring. "Well, I believe it's finally time for us to get moving, hm?"

"Yeah?" Antonio asked. "Why now, all of a sudden?"

Francis simply smiled and stood up, offering Antonio a hand, which he gladly took. He wobbled slightly, noticing that Francis was definitely less drunk than him but not quite caring. He followed Francis through the crowd that had only grown bigger, rather than dwindling like it should have at this hour. They left the hot room and into the cold night air and Antonio sighed happily. That is, until he heard the shouting.

"Don't fucking touch me, you bastard, I'm here for a damn good fucking reason!" It was Lovino and Antonio couldn't stop himself from laughing. He followed Francis until they turned into an alleyway and Antonio could see, in the dim lighting, Lovino with another man with short blonde hair, green eyes, and…what the hell was crawling on his eyebrows? "Do you want to fight me, 'cause I'll sure as hell win!"

"Hey, Lovi, you having fun there?" Antonio laughed and Lovino caught his eye, glaring.

"You!" Lovino snapped. "I go around for hours looking for these fucking idiots and you get fucking drunk?"

"Free alcohol," Antonio shrugged, giving a lop-sided smile.

"And what the fuck is that name?" Lovino growled and Antonio shrugged.

"This is the other one?" the other blonde huffed, looking at Francis questioningly.

"Looks like mine was a little easier to handle," Francis chuckled and the shorter blonde shook his head, glancing at Lovino. There were a few bruises on both of them.

"Now, kindly tell me what two soldiers want with us?," the shorter man huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He was obviously a party guest, but Antonio hadn't seen him. "Are you going to go back to your superior officer?"

"Sadly, my fucking superior is right there," Lovino grumbled, glaring at Antonio, who waved happily to him. "I'm not here to do anything, I swear."

"Yes, and I suppose you actually want to betray the king and join us," the short blonde scoffed.

"Strange, I thought that really was what we were doing," Antonio mused. The short blonde let out a sigh and pulled out a pistol, pointing it right at Antonio, who didn't hesitate to pull out his own, which he was hiding in his pants, and aimed it right at the man's head. Francis pulled his own on Antonio and Lovino had his on Francis shortly afterwards. "I might be drunk, but killing's what I do. Can't be that hard, especially with my target so close."

"If I knew you two would be this fucking stupid about it, I'd have gone somewhere else," Lovino snapped.

"We have to be careful, I hope you understand," Francis shrugged. Antonio had to admit it was rather clever; Antonio was quite obviously the more dangerous of the two. Getting him drunk gave them a little edge, if nothing else. "A revolution in a country like this isn't exactly a popular idea."

"I can imagine," Antonio shrugged. "I understand. No hard feelings."

"No fucking hard feelings?" Lovino snapped. "I've got half a mind to shoot both of these fuckers right now!"

"Then tell me why you're searching for us," the short blonde sighed impatiently.

"My brother," Lovino said, his voice low. "Feliciano Vargas."

"That makes you Lovino Vargas?" the blonde sighed hesitantly. He looked about ready to put his gun down.

"No shit," Lovino rolled his eyes. "I want him back, I don't give a shit how I'm doing it, and it doesn't fucking matter if it's through you or not."

"And you?" Francis asked Antonio curiously.

"I'm just following him," Antonio shrugged. "Right now, he's all I have to place my loyalty on. You get him and I'll stay."

"Not very convincing," the blonde sighed, shaking his head. "I'll give it to you that you at least look like what I've heard of Lovino Vargas. I still need proof."

"What you want a fucking blood test or something?" Lovino scoffed. "I know where he's stationed on the border, we can go there and you can test it out for yourself, I don't fucking care. You leave me and I'll just find some other way to get there, I don't care."

"Aw, calm down, Lovi," Antonio shrugged and Lovino glared at him. "They don't mean any harm. Francis' gun isn't even cocked, let alone loaded."

Francis lowered his gun in surprise.

"How could you tell?" the short blonde asked.

"I kill people for a living," Antonio shrugged. "I know what a loaded gun looks like when someone's holding it."

"Even while he's drunk," the blonde shook his head, storing his gun, which actually was loaded, but not ready to be shot, by any means. "Fine, we'll take you to our hideout. We'll working on getting to Feliciano Vargas as soon as we can."

"Finally," Lovino sighed, putting his gun down. Antonio was the last one to lower his gun.

"I give you one warning," the short blonde said clearly, looking at both of them in the eye in turn. "This group isn't the kind where we do protests or speeches. We won't get any spotlight, we stay in the shadows, am I clear? The second you two become members of this group, your job is to kill people. You will be assassins. You can back out now."

"Doesn't change anything," Antonio shrugged and looked to Lovino, who paled just slightly with the suggestion.

"Whatever," Lovino grumbled, storing his gun back where it came from. Antonio smiled slightly. Anything for the sake of his brother.

* * *

**Okay, so this is getting two parts because this is turning out a lot longer than I thought it would. Seriously, I started and I was like, this is fun, OMG, let's keep going. It is the backstory for three characters, Lovino, Feliciano, and Antonio, so they can get two chapters to themselves. Whew, anyway, this was intense and more than half of this was not expected to come out of me. Anyway, regardless, this first half is done and the next part will come shortly. Also, in regards to any Spamano questions; they're just friends, really close friends, but by no means in love. None of that characterization is anywhere close to happening. I don't mind shipping it, it's just I don't find a place for it in here. Lovino's got other shit to do, man.**

**And how is it that I only just learned that Romano has, like, 3 different canon eye colors? I was going for a descriptor and realized, shit, what the hell is this? Green/hazel in the manga and amber in the anime? Who does that?**

**Please review! And I'll come back again sometime soon!**


	33. My Sunshine 2

Backstory 1. My Sunshine Part Two.

"So, what kind of gun is that?" Francis asked curiously, leaning over Antonio's shoulder. They were in Arthur's "house", or mansion was more like it. Though Antonio got the impression that Arthur didn't actually own it, considering how he had the servants treated each other. Antonio was resting on a couch, his gun laid out in several pieces in front of him as he cleaned it delicately.

"Um," Antonio thought for a moment. "That's kind of hard to explain. I made it myself, so it's a bunch of different guns, I guess."

"You built that?" Francis raised an eyebrow in surprise. They had known each other for a few days and Lovino and Arthur grew comfortable shooting insults at each other while Antonio grew closer with Francis. He was talking about as much as he was when he was drunk, at this rate, and it surprised him. Why hadn't he ever talked this much around anyone else?

"Yup," Antonio chirped, moving the rag he was using to a clean spot as he started on a new piece. "It's not like the military's gonna willingly give me anything like this."

"You did a marvelous job," Francis smiled. "Is that what you did in the military? Snipe people?"

"My job was pretty simple," Antonio shrugged. "I looked around town after it was time for everyone to be at work and I shot the ones that weren't doing what was ordered. I wasn't noticed until my first shot rang out."

"And how many do you think you've killed?" Francis asked curiously.

"I don't really keep track," Antonio shrugged. "You?"

"Two," Francis held up two fingers. His smile told Antonio that he was rather proud of this part of himself. Antonio wondered briefly just who he'd killed, especially as a noble. "So, you've never told me how you wound up meeting the ball of joy you're walking around with."

"Lovi?" Antonio blinked. The name had kind of stuck, and it certainly helped that Lovino didn't like it. It was fun to mess with him, especially considering how Lovino acted when he was irritated. "He's been passed around the military a few times, since he kept trying to desert. I guess they figured bringing him to the capital was a good decision and they put him under my command, but I don't think I've done a very good job of spoiling him."

"Rather odd that he, of all people, decided to stick around you," Francis chuckled.

"I guess he found something inside of me I never saw," Antonio shrugged. He finally finished cleaning and began putting his gun back together again.

"What kind of bullets do you use?" Francis asked. "I intend on using my money while I can. Who knows when it'll get taken away from me once they know what I'm doing."

Antonio told him the bullets he used. "They're not very expensive and pretty easy to find around a bunch of military bases. Shouldn't be too hard to find." Antonio smiled as all of the parts easily meshed together. "I'm afraid I'm not very useful in hand-to-hand combat, if that's what you'll need me for."

"Don't worry," Francis waved his hand in the air, like it didn't matter. His tone of voice was similar to that of talking about the weather or discussing his next party. "We're only beginning as a group, we'll find the skills we need. I'm sure you're more useful as you are."

"What is the purpose of this group?" Antonio asked.

"Arthur is more knowledgeable in that aspect," Francis said. "He is the one in contact with the leaders from the surrounding countries."

"He managed that?" Antonio looked back at Francis in shock. It was impossible to talk to King Ivan, let alone all of the others. "How?"

"He has…impressive connections," Francis mused.

"Hey, idiot," Lovino poked his head into the room and Antonio smiled, finishing up putting his gun together. Lovino didn't insult him that badly and he didn't curse…plus that smile on his face…Antonio could only expect what this news meant. "We've found him."

"Yes, he's quite excited," Arthur sighed, walking into the doorway as well. "Sadly, Francis and I are needed elsewhere. I've been told two others have heard of us, lord knows how, and we will need to meet with them. It will just be the two of you, can you handle that?"

"Of course," Antonio nodded, moving his gun into its case and onto his shoulder.

"In that case, I should give you both these," Francis offered his hand and Antonio saw that there were two, small devices in his hand. "You put them in your ears and you can hear each other."

"Great, just what I need; him in my ear," Lovino rolled his eyes, walking forward hastily and grabbing one device out of Francis' hand. "We're running low on time, can we get moving now?"

"I'm sure you can manage waiting a few minutes," Antonio laughed, grabbing the piece and securing it in his ear. He could clearly feel a button and pressed it lightly. "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, jackass, now let's move," Lovino snapped, gripping onto Antonio's arm and pulling him along.

"Good luck," Francis laughed.

"You'll need it," Arthur scoffed, shaking his head as they passed.

"You really are in a hurry," Antonio chuckled, following after Lovino, who was at a walk so fast paced it was almost a run.

"I haven't seen him in years," Lovino muttered. "I have to make sure he's okay."

"Fair enough," Antonio laughed slightly. He followed Lovino out the doors and they rushed into the shadows to avoid being seen by any of the soldiers. Antonio had to admit, Lovino was a lot better at hiding than Antonio, even to the point where Antonio had a hard time keeping up with him if he was hidden under the shroud of darkness.

They walked for a long time. Antonio didn't complain, just shifted the weight of his gun occasionally. Lovino didn't so much as look back to make sure he was still there. He was solely focused on getting to his brother. Antonio couldn't stop the small smile on his face. Finally, they reached a small base, only about a mile from the border. It was surprisingly bright and happy, considering the time, it seemed like the soldiers further from the capital seemed to have a better time.

"Wait here," Lovino muttered and Antonio jumped, not thinking Lovino was actually that close. He thought he was another two feet in front of him… "Get up on a building and give me cover, I'll go in and get him."

"Right," Antonio nodded. "Lovino…"

"Yeah?" Lovino asked and Antonio still couldn't see him in the shrouded darkness.

"Good luck," Antonio smiled. "I hope you find him."

"Thanks," Lovino nodded before running off. Antonio wasted no time climbing the fire escape of the nearest building. They had been walking for so long that the sun had mostly gone down and it was only deep reds and purples around them. Antonio sighed. That would make his job a lot harder. Once he reached the roof, he carefully set up his gun in a position that he could move it easily. Once Lovino got out, he was sure there wouldn't be much time for him to store anything.

He settled on his stomach, allowed his breathing to even out, and waited. He stared through the scope, his eyes adjusting quite nicely with this much time and…he felt lonely. For the first time. He gnawed on his lower lip. He didn't…he didn't like not talking, anymore.

"You okay, Lovi?" Antonio asked through the ear piece.

"I'm fucking fine, jackass, stay off this thing," Lovino hissed back at him and Antonio smiled slightly, nestling into the concrete below him. Lovino definitely wasn't in a bad situation if he could talk back to him. That was nice, at least. It was a few more, long minutes of silence before Lovino's voice came back through. "I see him. Gimme another five minutes and I'll be out."

"Thanks for the warning," Antonio said. And he felt happy. For Lovino. If he could get his brother out, maybe he'd be happy and curse a little less. That would be nice. It wasn't long before Antonio noticed the two shadows slink out of a side door. They managed to make it out without anyone noticing and without incident. Good. But that probably wouldn't last long. "Lovi, run for a few blocks, I'll meet up with you. You don't want to be close to this thing once they find out."

"If those assholes even find out," Lovino scoffed, but there was a lightness to his voice now. Antonio smiled, picking up his gun and running, his bag loosely hitting his back as he went. He kept his eye out for the two shadows, losing them a few times, but always managing to find them again if he looked hard enough. Finally, they both stopped and Antonio dropped down into the small alleyway. They were all panting and it seemed startlingly loud in the quiet around them.

"You actually came for me, Lovi," that voice was new. Happier. Higher pitched. Feliciano, huh? Antonio couldn't see much of him in the darkness.

"I fucking promised you, didn't I?" Lovino sighed. "Idiot."

"You can go ahead and hug him, Lovi," Antonio said simply, leaning closer to Lovino. "I won't tell anyone."

Lovino looked at him through the darkness for a moment before he rushed forward and practically clung to the other figure in the darkness. He let out a choked sound and Antonio stepped back, but kept an eye out for anyone that might be watching, just in case. Feliciano was already crying.

"Oh, God, I never thought I'd see you again and I was so…so scared!" Feliciano cried into Lovino's shoulder. "They were making me…making me do mean things and-and…"

"I'm here," Lovino muttered. "You're not going anywhere, don't worry."

"I had to kill people," Feliciano muttered, his voice catching as he tried to come up with words to say because he desperately wanted to talk to his brother and there was too much to talk about. He had to get it all out at once. "They…I…I…they made f-f-fun of me and…I tried to run…j-just like you t-told me when you l…l…left…"

Lovino shushed him, rubbing his back gently. "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you, too," Feliciano sniffled. "Just…just…d-don't…leave me…again, okay?"

"It's okay," Lovino muttered. "I'm here now, and you're sure as hell never going back there."

"Promise?" Feliciano asked in a painfully small voice.

"Of course I fucking do," Lovino pulled back. "We should get started going back. It's late and it's a long walk."

"Yeah," Feliciano muttered, obviously collecting himself. He turned to Antonio and stuck out a small hand. "You're Lovi's friend, right? That means I can trust you."

"Antonio," he supplied and Feliciano nodded. "Let's get out of here, alright? We can properly meet each other later."

*Time Skip*

Lovino let out a long sigh once they entered Arthur's home while Antonio just laughed, locking the door behind him. Finally, he could see Feliciano in the light. He looked extremely similar to Lovino, just with lighter hair. And he smiled a lot more.

"Oh, wow, who's house is this?" Feliciano stared in wonder at the space around them in the foyer. Antonio looked up. It wasn't the best chandelier in the mansion, but it was one of the better ones. He had a feeling he was going to like Feliciano a lot.

"Arthur, our leader or whatever," Lovino scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at Feliciano in the eyes and the latter of the two seemed completely brimmed with happiness. Feliciano pulled Lovino into a tight hug. "Get the fuck off of me, you idiot!" Lovino snapped and Feliciano laughed, squeezed him, and stood back.

"I just missed you," Feliciano smiled.

"Look," Lovino sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This group's not like all of the other revolutionary groups. We kill people. I have a feeling we're gonna kill that fucking king. You don't have to join."

"But, you're in it, right?" Feliciano asked. Antonio couldn't stop the smile on his face. He was dressed in a soldiers outfit and yet he looked so innocent? He was a part of the draft, definitely, but even surrounded by all of those soldiers he was still so happy and…oblivious to the hardships of the world. Or…maybe he noticed them and decided to look the other way…

"That's not the fucking point," Lovino snapped. "It's your decision, you'll be safe, you don't have to join this group."

"My decision is to be by you," Feliciano smiled, a hand on Lovino's shoulder. "I wouldn't want anything else."

"You're fucking hopeless," Lovino rolled his eyes and glanced at Antonio. "And you, fucking idiot, wipe that smile off your face."

"You two are just so cute, Lovi," Antonio snickered. "Is that why you didn't want me to call you Lovi, because he uses it?"

"I didn't want you to call me that because I fucking hate the name," Lovino snapped. "No other reason, am I clear?"

"As crystal," Antonio hummed and the door behind them opened. Antonio blinked in surprise. He half expected the two to come back with a few others, but instead they just came with new bruises. "What happened?"

"False lead, now you understand why we were so careful with you," Arthur scoffed, walking right past them, ignoring Feliciano. He disappeared into the house.

"As it stands," Francis sighed heavily, standing beside Antonio, "I now have the blood of five on my hands." Antonio blinked in surprise. "And who is this?" He smiled at Feliciano, who smiled right back.

"My idiot of a brother," Lovino rolled his eyes, but Antonio could tell when Lovino looked at Feliciano. When he thought no one was looking…He missed Feliciano quite a lot. And he was happy to have him back.

* * *

"Clear in my area," Feliciano's voice came out loud and clear over the ear piece.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Arthur said sharply and Antonio shifted where he laid on top of a building. This was important. A popular revolutionary speaker was going to have a speech. It was their job to keep the civilians safe when the soldiers over reacted. "Antonio, how's your view?"

"Perfect," Antonio chimed, happy to be prompted into a conversation. "Francis, I've got a clear sight of you." Francis was the one in charge of protecting the speaker and Antonio would provide backup if no one else required his attention.

"Good," Francis laughed slightly, shifting uneasily. "I'd hate to be a sitting duck."

"I might just prefer you dead," Lovino grumbled and Antonio laughed. The speaker walked through the crowd and Antonio glanced around him, no one yet. That was good. He evened out his breath.

"I've got someone," Feliciano reported and Antonio looked over to his area. It was a soldier, clear as day, forcing is way through the crowd.

"Handle it," Arthur said simply. Antonio watched with interest as Feliciano eased his way through the crowd and snuck up behind the man, slicing his throat with practiced ease. He played it off well enough to the crowd, hiding the blood and pretending his "friend" was drunk, to avoid chaos.

"We might have found your calling, Feli," Antonio smirked, turning back to the speaker.

"I don't know," Feliciano mused. "I mean, it's easy, but it doesn't quite feel right."

"Those skills of being able to be unseen would come quite in handy regarding the king," Arthur sighed.

"Will you idiots shut the fuck up?" Lovino growled. "I'm trying to pay attention, I don't know about you bastards."

"Always with the kind words, Lovi," Antonio laughed.

"Shit, we have a lot more on my side," Lovino said. "I can't handle that many."

"Antonio?" Arthur asked and Antonio looked over.

"Maybe 20 or 30," Antonio reported, watching the soldiers force their way through, shooting to cause a panic and break up the crowd. "I'll do what I can."

"Francis, get him out," Arthur ordered as Antonio started firing. They were moving so erratically, it was hard to get a good shot, but he managed to kill about five before they reached the main crowd. Lovino snuck in two kills. This wasn't good.

That was when Antonio saw something. A flash of white. He adjusted his scope and watched as an albino stood out from the crowd, behind the soldiers, and shot several of them to the ground. There was a man beside him doing the same.

"Lovi, I've got two guys on your side," Antonio reported. "They're shooting soldiers." Antonio watched as the other man, a blonde, rushed to help a child that had fallen over badly, with two scraped knees. "And helping civilians."

"Can you handle the rest while I get them?" Lovino asked.

"Should we risk that?" Arthur scoffed.

"You should learn to trust my judgement," Antonio smirked. "Leave it to me and Feli, Arthur, you can go with Lovino."

"I'm the one giving orders," Arthur mumbled, but started moving anyway. Antonio started shooting again and now the soldiers were starting to look for him, but he was in a good enough hiding spot not to be found. A few lucky bullets grazed the building around him. Feliciano joined in with the crowd to kill a few others and, soon, all of the soldiers were down.

"Good job, Feli, you doing okay?" Antonio smirked, glancing around to see if any others were coming. They apparently didn't think this was a very big deal.

"I'm fine," Feliciano sighed.

"Hurry the fuck up and get over here," Lovino snapped and Antonio could clearly hear angry shouting from someone else he didn't recognize through the headset. "You're brilliant fucking idea's backfiring."

"Coming," Antonio sighed, shoving his gun into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and ducking through, over, and down the buildings to get to where he saw Lovino and Arthur go with the two men.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was fucking helping!" a man was nearly screaming and Antonio sighed, walking into the alleyway. Lovino had his gun pointed at the albino, who was the one screaming, and the other man, who was a lot larger than Antonio anticipated, had Arthur guarding him with his pistol. He was smart enough not to move.

"Keep fucking talking and I'll blast out your brains," Lovino growled. Antonio patted his shoulder as he walked up to him.

"You should learn to calm down a bit," Antonio smiled, walking right past him and up to the albino, who looked at him in surprise. Antonio stuck his hand out to him. "My name's Antonio. I saw you on the roof, thanks for the help."

"Yeah," the albino stared at his hand like he might get a disease from it. "Don't mention it. Who the fuck are you guys?"

"Consider us a revolutionary group," Arthur muttered. "I don't intend to hurt you, but if you fire first, I won't hesitate."

"Where are you guys?" Francis called over the headset and Arthur gave him directions.

"How can we trust you?" the albino narrowed his eyes at them, as if sizing up Antonio.

"I didn't shoot you," Antonio shrugged, his hand still out. "You don't have to make any promises now, just come along for a bit and we'll figure something out, okay?"

"What do you think, Lud," the albino asked, glancing at the blonde.

"It's better than nothing," his deep voice sighed.

"Gilbert," the albino sighed, taking Antonio's hand. "The awesome me is at your service."

* * *

"I don't fucking like the new guys," Lovino grumbled, violently sharpening his knife beside Antonio, who was cleaning his gun on the same couch he always did. Feliciano was on his other side, sharpening his own knife.

"You don't really like anyone, Lovi," Feliciano chimed.

"Yeah, and they're no fucking exception," Lovino snapped.

"I don't know, I kinda like Gilbert," Antonio shrugged. "He's fun to hang out with."

"I don't want to fucking know about your drinking adventures with the wine bastard and the beer bastard," Lovino rolled his eyes. "I don't give a shit if you like 'em, I don't."

"I don't know, I think Ludwig's not bad," Feliciano smiled softly. "He's really sweet."

"Hm, didn't get that vibe off of him," Antonio mused. "I mostly got stoic and intimidating. Not really sweet…"

"Well, I might have talked to him a bit more than you," Feliciano hummed happily.

"Yeah?" Antonio carefully set down a part of the muzzle, regarding Feliciano carefully. "Whatcha talk about?" The light blush that set on Feliciano's cheeks confirmed his suspicions.

"Nothing, really," Feliciano bit his lip.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Lovino glared at him. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"What?" Feliciano stared at him with wide eyes and Antonio couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"No," Lovino snapped. "I'm not allowing this shit fest to happen right in front of me. Take back what you just said. That bastard's not nice at all!"

"Oh, come on, Lovi," Feliciano smiled. "He's really nice once you get to know him and…I think I really like him."

"Stop!" Lovino groaned, covering his ears with his knife still in his hand. "I won't listen to this bullshit!"

"I approve," Antonio supplied. "If that makes any difference."

"Thanks," Feliciano giggled. "It means a lot."

Antonio messed up his hair slightly while Lovino glared harshly at them.

"Yeah, I don't fucking approve," Lovino snapped. "I'm not fucking hugging you once you figure out he's a jackass."

"Oh, come on," Antonio laughed. "After you, no one's gonna seem like a jackass."

"You take that back, you bastard!" Lovino snapped, pointing his knife at Antonio, who just laughed and picked up another piece to clean up.

* * *

"He's dead."

It was the middle of the night. Gilbert appeared out of nowhere with Alfred, who was an emotional wreck. Antonio could barely comprehend what he was hearing. He must have been really tired. Did…Did Gilbert just say…that Feliciano was…

Lovino yelled, he was practically screaming, but Antonio didn't hear the words. He couldn't hear anything. The world only returned to him after Gilbert stopped talking. Everyone was in shock. Ludwig looked about ready to fall over, Arthur could barely hold up Alfred, Francis looked about ready to puke, and Lovino was…seething.

"You couldn't…" Antonio's voice broke. He tried again. "You couldn't get his body?"

"The king's got that covered," Gilbert all but spat. Antonio didn't…didn't know what to do…Feliciano was…he was…happy and always there to cheer everyone up, he adapted well to situations, he…

Couldn't be…

Dead…

They sat on the couch and Lovino was shaking with pure anger. Antonio almost pitied him. He couldn't feel the sadness, he was blinded by his anger. Antonio didn't even pay attention to what they were talking about. He wasn't even aware if he talked or not. But the second their group split up, Antonio held tightly onto Lovino's wrist, pulling him into his room.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Lovino snapped, but his voice broke. He glared at Antonio in the darkness of his room.

"Be sad," Antonio blurted out and Lovino looked almost like he'd been slapped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Lovino growled. "Feliciano is dead. I know the name of his murderer, I'm gonna fucking kill that bastard!"

"No, please," Antonio practically begged. "Feli…he wouldn't…wouldn't want you to be like this. Don't… Please don't be angry."

"I don't give a shit what he would have wanted," Lovino snapped, his voice breaking again. "I…I just lost him…again! Because of that damn king! Again! I'm not forgiving anyone! And I'm not calming down."

"Don't…" Antonio muttered, looking at the ground, still holding on tightly to Lovino. "Please don't be angry…"

"What the hell do you want from me?" Lovino threw caution to the wind, he stopped caring what he voice sounded like, that it was cracking, that he sounded like he was crying. Antonio looked up to discover that he really was. "I'm not going to sob into your arms because of this. I'm not going to go crawling to his grave, _I can't!_ I know the fucker that did this and I'm gonna kill him because, fuck yes, I'm pissed off! Feliciano can think whatever the hell he wants to wherever the hell he went, I'm gonna be mad about his death, I don't give a shit!"

"Lovi…" Antonio sighed, stepping forward. Lovino painfully wrenched his hand away.

"Don't fucking try to talk to me about this again," Lovino shook his head, ignoring the streams of tears coming down his face. "You're not fucking helping."

Lovino stormed out of the room and Antonio fell to his knees. Feli was…dead. He was gone…But…

It was easier to be quiet, to not talk to anyone at all. But Antonio ached. He wanted to talk, he _needed _to talk. But there was no one and he couldn't talk. It was easier to be quiet and alone and snipe from afar. Antonio curled in on himself. And he cried quietly.

* * *

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away._

**Well, I just had to do that, you all know I did. This was the first backstory and I promise not all of them are going to be depressing. It's just…Feli was depressing no matter how you look at it. Also, I noticed in the past few chapters, when I had Elizabeta doing research on people, she dug up stuff on how Antonio was in the same town as Lovino and Feliciano when they grew up. I'm here to tell you that was the original plan and is no longer what happened, because I came up with a better backstory. Just saying this to avoid some confusion.**

**And, now that I've got this hunk of a backstory done, I can do the others! I think next I'm either doing Gilbert and Ludwig or Kiku, I still haven't decided.**

**Anyway, please review, as always, and I'll see you next time!**


	34. Centuries

Backstory 2. Centuries.

Kiku remembered the sound of the screams. He had been asleep. His parents had told him to stay in his bed. He screwed his eyes shut, folding the blanket tightly over his small body. But he could still hear them. He was used to death. That was what they were good for, his parents told him. That was how everyone in his town earned their money. They were not aligned with anyone, they earned money and they lived peacefully on their own. But hearing his own people scream…

Finally, finally, the screams stopped. Only because of the familiar sound of gunshots. Kiku never liked using guns. He preferred swords. His parents often complained about the cost of swords for a little kid like him, but that didn't matter. He was better with swords anyway. Kiku whimpered. If the screams stopped, that meant that his people must have died…

It was quiet.

Then he heard the footsteps and he shook even more. His parents told him that their town was "inconvenient". There were these things called countries around them and they happened to lie on a border, whatever that was. This meant that they were in the way. Kiku figured his parents were just waiting for this day. He held onto his sheets tighter as the footsteps walked into his house. It wasn't large, just one room. He was sure they saw him. He was dead…

"Go check some other houses, I don't see anything here," a man sighed and Kiku blinked in surprise.

"But, sire," another man attempted to argue.

"There is nothing here," the first man said coldly and a few footsteps left, though Kiku could definitely feel the presence of the first man. He had a lot of power to him…power he was uncomfortable with. "I'm not going to hurt you," Kiku jumped when he realized just how close the voice was. "You can come out."

Kiku delicately peeked over the covers, looking at the man in front of him. It was dark, they had attacked in the middle of the night, but this man appeared to glow. He had very light hair and pale skin and light purple eyes, laced with shadows underneath that told the boy that he didn't sleep well. The man smiled softly at him.

"Hello," the man attempted, shifting so that he knelt in front of Kiku. He seemed…surprised. Maybe he wasn't expecting Kiku to really be a child… "I'm sorry."

"Why did you attack?" Kiku asked quietly.

"I guess you could say because I was told to," the man smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile. Kiku sat up straight.

"Are you going to kill me, too?" Kiku asked.

"Do you want me to?" the man asked. It was a serious question. Kiku had to think about that for a little while. Sure, he was sad that his family was dead, but…that didn't mean he didn't want to live. He wasn't even crying. He was just afraid.

"Not really," Kiku muttered, licking his lips.

"Then how about this," the man offered. "I know two boys your age, they're in a similar position to you. They're family is dead and it's my fault. I'm sure they would love to get to know you. It's better than being alone."

Kiku looked at him, searching his face for some kind of lie, but there was none. The man before him only showed him kindness.

"You said you did this because you were told to," Kiku mumbled. "That means it's not your fault."

"I wish that could be true," the man smiled softly. "What do you say?"

It was better than dying, Kiku thought. So he nodded and the man nodded back.

"In that case," the man sighed, holding out a hand that Kiku took as he carefully climbed out of the bed. The man stayed kneeling down so they could be on the same level, "my name is Ivan. It is nice to meet you."

"Kiku."

"I'm going to warn you," Ivan sighed, a little sadly, "your town no longer exists. Coming with me means that you are a part of my country, do you understand that?"

Kiku nodded carefully. It was…better than dying. And he could have friends. He didn't really get to know a lot of the kids in his town very well, everyone was too busy practicing to kill people, really. If his town was dead, anyway, what else did he have to do but adapt?

"And I am the king," Ivan continued. "You will take orders from me."

"Where do your orders come from?" Kiku was under the impression that kings were the ones that made the rules, they didn't follow them.

"That is rather complicated," Ivan laughed slightly before standing. "You can still decide to leave."

"I don't know what else I'd do," Kiku said honestly.

Ivan smiled at him, leading the way out of the small house that was burned to the ground seconds after they left.

* * *

Kiku blinked. They blinked back. They were twins. The two kids stood in front of him, equally confused about him as he was about them. These were the two kids Ivan had told him about. But Ivan wasn't there, he was busy with work. So an adult just shoved him into this large house with these twins and they stared at each other. Minutes passed in this quiet.

Finally, one of the twins, the one with clunky, fake limbs, stepped forward.

"I'm Alfred," he said.

"Kiku."

"That's Matthew," Alfred looked back at his brother. "You're the guy Ivan talked to us about, huh?"

"Yes."

"Cool," Alfred nodded and they lapsed into silence once again. Kiku didn't know anything about these children, really. Just that they were in a similar position to Kiku.

"Have you killed anyone?" Matthew asked curiously, poking his head around Alfred, who jumped in surprise and glared at his brother.

"What kinda question is that?" Alfred snapped at him. "Why else would he be here?"

"You…kill people, too?" Kiku asked delicately.

"Don't worry, Ivan told us it wasn't bad, so it's not," Alfred gave him a bright smile. "Those people we killed were bad, so we had to kill them."

"You have an interesting sense of justice," Kiku muttered.

"Wow, you know big words," Alfred laughed.

"Why do you kill people?" Matthew asked delicately.

"Because people want me to," Kiku said. "I've never thought about if it's good or bad."

"Wait, so you're kinda like…uh…what's it called, Mattie?" Alfred turned to his brother.

"Assassin," Matthew said clearly and proudly, like it was a new word he'd learned. Kiku heard that word a lot in his town.

"Yeah, that," Alfred beamed, looking back at Kiku. "You one of those?"

"Yes," Kiku nodded. "My town's job was to kill people for other people."

"Oh, wow," Alfred nodded in approval. "You're cool, I like you!"

"I'm glad," Kiku said.

"What do you prefer?" Matthew asked curiously. "Do you like using a gun?"

"I like swords," Kiku muttered.

"Dude, dude, dude!" Alfred jumped up and down in excitement, holding onto Kiku's shoulders. "I've gotta show you something, it's so cool! They're new, I can't believe Ivan gave 'em to me!"

"Yes?" Kiku asked curiously and Alfred stepped back, posing his arm happily in front of him. All of a sudden, a bright red sword appeared out of it and Alfred beamed like he was the most impressive person in the world. Kiku admired the craftsmanship of the blade. He never got anything like that. Well, with a king supplying them…he'd get great supplies. Kiku smiled. "That's cool," he muttered.

* * *

"Are we supposed to be into girls?" Alfred asked curiously, his leg swinging absently from the broken window. Kiku knelt beside him, watching as people bustled, coming home from work. Ivan had told them that someone was planning on starting a riot. They had to kill him before he did anything bad. For now, Alfred was idly talking, driving the conversation like he usually did. "I mean, we spy a lot, right? And I've seen lots of other 13 year old guys. They're into girls."

"I'm not," Kiku said simply.

"I don't think I've met one," Matthew mused, standing behind them with a pistol in his hand. Kiku happily felt for the hilts of his swords at his hip. They were very advanced, the blades came out at the press of a button. He liked them quite a lot. A birthday gift from Ivan.

"That's my point," Alfred groaned. "Do you think it'd be a good idea?"

"I think they'd be a distraction," Kiku shrugged. "We're not supposed to be into girls, we're supposed to kill people for Ivan."

"Yeah, but I feel like I'm missing out," Alfred muttered.

"I see him," Matthew said, holding out a small tablet that he had of the face of the guy they were supposed to kill.

"I call him!" Alfred shouted, standing up and pointing his gun at the crowd. "Kiku got the last one…"

"That's because you didn't call him," Kiku smiled. Alfred searched in the crowd for a bit before he found him and shot once. The man fell to the ground and a few people staggered away, but no one was brave enough to make a big deal about it.

"Nice shot, Al," Matthew noted. "But you took a while finding him. Were you distracted by a pretty girl?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," Alfred rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna invite her home with me."

They laughed, an innocent laugh. None of them could think of a reason why killing a random person in a crowd was wrong. The king had said to kill him, after all. They'd been doing this for quite some time at this point.

* * *

Kiku stared in interest from behind Alfred, who didn't bother hiding his blatant curiosity. Matthew stood with Kiku.

"You're a girl," Alfred said bluntly. Now Kiku understood how the twins felt when he walked in suddenly one day. Ivan had told them about this girl and now she showed up in their house. And they were left alone. Each one of them with the tools to kill each other easily.

"Yeah?" the girl scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her hair was pulled back, out of her eyes. She had the mannerisms of a boy, oddly enough. "So what?"

"But you're not…cute," Alfred mused.

"Alfred," Kiku sighed and Alfred looked back at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Alfred whined. "She's not."

"Good," the girl smirked. "I'm just as good as the three of you, I don't see what's so wrong about me joining. The king even thought it was a great idea."

"And I ain't questioning his judgement," Alfred shrugged. "I'm just not sure how much I trust someone who tried to kill him."

"I didn't actually do it seriously," the girl rolled her eyes. Ah, so this was the incident Kiku missed out on. The incident that had Alfred pacing for hours because he was so nervous. This was the girl that managed to get through Matthew and Alfred during a celebration and pose an actual threat to the king. And Ivan had welcomed her into the group…interesting. "If I had, he'd be dead by now."

"Yeah, and let's see you get there again," Alfred threatened, his eyes going cold. "Don't care how much he trusts you. The second you turn on him, I'm not giving you a second chance."

"Then the same goes for you," she hummed happily, walking up to him. "My name's Elizabeta by the way, call me Eliza."

"Alfred," the boy sighed, looking at her again. "I still don't get it…"

"What? How I'm not cute?" Elizabeta tilted her head to the side.

"Aren't ya supposed to be?" Alfred asked. Elizabeta hummed, looking at him closely and carefully.

"Hm," Elizabeta smiled. "Guess that means you're gay." She didn't wait for a response as she turned to Matthew with a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Kiku suppressed a laugh as Matthew introduced himself and she turned to him.

"I'm Kiku," he smiled at her. "It'll be a pleasure getting to know you."

"You seem a little small for an assassin," Elizabeta mused and Kiku noticed that Alfred's brain was still trying to process what he just heard. Kiku had had his suspicions about Alfred for a long time, but he wasn't going to intrude on that thought process.

"I'm glad you think so," Kiku smiled. "A lot of people think the same way, it helps me kill them easier."

"I like you," Elizabeta giggled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He smiled. It was nice to have friends. Now he was happy that Ivan had brought him into this group, full of kids just like him. Perfectly willing to kill at the drop of a hat. "We're gonna be great friends, I can tell!"

"I'm glad you were able to tell him," Kiku said, glancing at Alfred. "I've been meaning to for a while."

"Should I tell the other one too?" Elizabeta asked curiously and he nearly laughed again.

"He'll accept it when the time comes," Kiku said thoughtfully.

* * *

Kiku shifted from his spot in an alley way as he watched his friends. Alfred and Matthew had decided to split up, surprisingly, and were on top of separate roofs, waiting for the right moment to strike. They were waiting for a revolutionary speaker that they anticipated to come to this location. They had to kill him before he started talking. It didn't matter if they caused chaos in the process. Elizabeta and their new member, Roderich, were together in another alleyway. They had hit it off rather well and were casually talking as they kept an eye out. Kiku smiled. He thought they were cute together.

He hid further in the shadows as the man walked forward and Kiku evened out his breathing. Their first try would be Alfred and Matthew and their guns, but if they failed, Kiku came next. If he failed, it was Elizabeta and Roderich. If all else failed, they weren't allowed to. Finally, Alfred and Matthew spotted him. Matthew fired first, but the man had seen them and ducked out of the way. The shot started a panic. Kiku was up, since Alfred couldn't shoot in that crowd. He would risk hurting innocent people.

Kiku ran forward, shoving through the crowd that didn't so much as look at him. Finally, he reached the man and slammed him into the nearest wall, ignoring the people rushing past him. There was a huge height difference, but Kiku didn't quite care. One of his blades was on the man's neck, the other on his stomach while one of his arms pinned his chest to the wall. Kiku had a few questions for him before he killed him.

"How did you see him?" Kiku asked simply, coldly and the man stared at him in wonder. He probably hadn't expected kids, if he expected assassins. "Answer my question." Kiku pressed the blade on his kneck a little closer to his skin.

"We had information," the man muttered quickly. "I was told to be on my toes…the king has assassins now…"

"He's always had us," Kiku said coldly. "How did you find out?" No one was supposed to know about them. Perhaps there was a spy in the capital building. He would have to tell the king about this.

"No one knows her name," the man muttered, trembling slightly. He was afraid of death. He thought Kiku was going to let him go. Funny. "She goes by Britannia."

"Anything else you feel like sharing?" Kiku asked simply. This guy must have been stupid, knowing about the assassins and still coming without a proper guard. Perhaps these revolutionaries really were poorly put together, if they didn't even have proper guards for their speakers. Maybe they just didn't expect the news of him speaking to come out so soon.

"Please," the man muttered. "I have a family…you can't just…"

"Don't worry," Kiku gave a small smile. "We'll find them, too." He sliced the man's throat and watched as he fell to the ground. Any family of a revolutionary certainly held the same ideals. They would have to be killed as well. It was a good thing they knew his name. He hadn't even noticed how much the crowd had dwindled until he looked around and saw the members of his team walking up towards him. "He has a family. We'll need to find them."

"How come he knew we were there?" Alfred asked simply, not even bothering to look at the body. He'd already memorized the face, after all. Soldiers would be by soon to pick it up.

"A spy named Britannia knows inside information," Kiku sighed. "I don't know how, he obviously didn't have a clue of even who she is. In any case, the revolutionaries know we exist, I don't know much else.

"Tough luck this time," Elizabeta laughed at Roderich. "Maybe you'll get a kill in next mission."

"I'm not exactly eager to kill," Roderich said simply, straightening his back and clothes in the same, swift motion. "Unlike you."

"Aw, come on," Alfred grinned. "Make the most of the situation. At least we're getting rid of the people the king needs us to. We're helping him out."

"Indeed," Roderich muttered. "I just prefer to be a more dignified about it."

"Dignified," Alfred snorted as he started walking away, Matthew following him closely behind. Kiku smiled. He definitely liked this family of his.

* * *

His family had been torn apart. Piece by piece. Until it was only two people left. But Kiku still kept a positive demeanor, even while his world fell apart around him for a second time. This time with just a little less screams. It was just him and Matthew now. Well…soon it would just be Matthew. And he knew it.

Kiku stood with the soldiers in front of the capital building. He could clearly see the army that the revolutionaries were capable of putting together. It certainly was a surprise. His grip on his swords tightened. These were the people ripping his family apart. And it was orders from the king to do his best at fighting. His goal was to kill every last one of them.

Not a realistic goal, but the only option he had. None of the soldiers around him had ever heard of him, didn't know his face or his name. The soldiers in front of him were in the same position. He wouldn't be remembered, he would be left with the pile of corpses, not given a burial because he had ceased existing many years ago.

He started running. He had to be on the lookout for their sniper, but once he made it into a crowd, he'd be fine. Their sniper wasn't going to risk anyone on their side. Kiku easily made it into the crowd of soldiers, slicing down several at one time. They were so in shock that no one fired after him for a few seconds. He was able to cause quite a bit of damage in a few seconds. Certainly, he wasn't going to go for the leaders of the group at the front, at least not yet. Not only would he be an easy target for their sniper, but he knew when he was outmatched. Those were kings and presidents, he wasn't about to fight them.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his arm and he stopped for a moment, looking at the fragment of a sword on the ground. It was one of the swords that belonged to Alfred's arm. He didn't have the time to look for the source as the guns surrounding him turned their attention to him. He gritted his teeth as he struggled to keep up the proper speed to allow his swords to block or slice the bullets that would hit him. Quite a few managed to graze him.

It was about two minutes before a bullet slammed home in his shoulder and Kiku cried out in pain, dropping his right sword. He blocked as many bullets as he could with his good arm, but many more bullets slid home, through his back, legs, stomach, chest. The last thing Kiku remembered was the pain before he dropped. He silently cursed his fate. He could have kept fighting if it weren't for that last bullet hitting his head.

* * *

**Kiku's such a wise and smart child. He's ten in the beginning, in case any of you were curious. I wanted to put it in there, the chance to put it in never came up, though. Sadness. Also, to give a peek into this incredibly complex timeline I've crafted, I'll tell you all a few things. First, consider the year the first revolution started as year 1. Year 8 is when Ivan takes power, when Alfred and Mattie are little babies, not even a year old. Year 18 is when Kiku joins when he's 10. It's not until year 25 when Arthur starts his own team. Year 30 was when all of the main plot occurred. Just so we're not all confused. Trust me, I was sitting with a pen for a few hours planning out this entire mess of a timeline, adding in all of their ages and everything. If you want the whole thing, PM me and I'd be happy to tell you all about it.**

**Anyway, here have another sad ending to a mostly happy backstory. Next one's Gilbert and Ludwig, so we'll get a little happier, I swear. You know, hopefully. Please review!**


	35. Raging Fire

Backstory 3. Raging Fire.

Gilbert always hated them. The soldiers. They were…mean. Cruel. They obeyed orders and laughed off anything that they "shouldn't" do. Gilbert was just waiting for the day he was big enough to fight them. And win. Oh, he'd win. He'd beat all of them to the dust.

"Brother," a small voice struck Gilbert out of his thoughts and he looked over at the source. "You were doing it again."

"Sorry," Gilbert muttered, glancing back at the window. It was school time and Gilbert was lucky enough to get a window in his classroom. Ludwig, his little brother, was four years younger than him, but was smart enough to be in Gilbert's class. Which scared him. If he looked too impressive, the king might want something from him.

"You shouldn't be focused on fighting them," Ludwig muttered, looking at the ground.

"I'm not," Gilbert smiled, patting his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, I've got my life figured out."

"You're ten," Ludwig said bluntly and Gilbert just shrugged.

"Older than you," Gilbert smirked.

"Dumber than me," Ludwig said and Gilbert glared halfheartedly at him. It was break time. A nice, ten minute section of their day where they could eat lunch or whatever. Their family couldn't afford lunch, but Gilbert had learned to ignore his rumbling stomach a long time ago.

"Whatever," Gilbert said with a wave of his hand. "Remember what we talked about, though. You're not allowed to tell anyone about what I think, got it?"

"Yes," Ludwig nodded. Gilbert wasn't stupid. He had seen what had happened to the people around him that said they hated the soldiers or the king. They got taken away. And then everyone stopped talking about them. Gilbert wouldn't be like that, he couldn't. No one could know. His brother only knew because he could read him a little too well. He would always catch him glaring at the soldiers on the streets during the day. "Just don't do something stupid, okay?"

"Hey, would I ever do anything stupid?" Gilbert laughed and class began, so Ludwig rushed to his seat and Gilbert continued his usual ritual. Ignoring the teacher and glaring at the soldiers.

* * *

"Okay, so I've come up with a game," Gilbert said proudly, tossing a pebble in his hand and catching it with the same one. He was so cool. Ludwig walked beside them, on their way home from school, surrounded by the bustling people attempting to get home on time. "You throw this pebble onto the ground and you've gotta hop on one leg until you pick it up, then we switch."

"That's a little weird," Ludwig muttered.

"Well, you're weird," Gilbert laughed and lightly tossed the pebble. As expected, the bustling people didn't so much as look their way and the pebble bounced around until it stopped. The grin never leaving his face, Gilbert hopped on his right foot until he reached it and picked it up, succeeding in vaguely stopping the regular flow of foot traffic. "You're turn!" He happily held the stone out to Ludwig.

"We're almost home," Ludwig said, the slight blush on his face telling Gilbert that he was embarrassed and scared to try it.

"Come on, it's fun!" Gilbert tried. "Don't be so stuffy! It's okay to have a little fun!"

"I'd rather get home," Ludwig sighed, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Then I'll go again," Gilbert said happily. They were really close to home, he could already see their front door. So he threw the rock so that it could land right in front of their door, which he only just noticed was open. Maybe their parents got there faster than usual from work. Gilbert smiled as he started hopping towards the door. It was wide open and he looked up from the ground only once and stopped right where he was.

Red.

It stained the carpet, had splattered on the walls, soaked the faces of his…

Gilbert stumbled backwards, running into Ludwig. He didn't care how many angry people in a hurry ran into him as he stared forward. There was a soldier in his house. His parents were on the ground, their faces covered in…red…bl…blood. The soldier was laughing, twirling his gun in his hands like he was proud of himself.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig asked carefully, looking beyond Gilbert and gripping tightly onto his arm at the sight in front of him. He was shaking, trembling. Gilbert's eyes widened. They couldn't be heard, they could be killed, too.

"No, please," Gilbert twirled around, looking his brother in the eye. "Don't…" Gilbert closed his eyes tightly to chase away his own tears and stared at the water forming in Ludwig's eyes. Everyone around them continued as usual. Because they had to. "Don't…" Gilbert shook his head.

"Why?" Ludwig asked in a quiet voice and Gilbert bit his lip. He didn't know! He was a kid! He shook his head and gripped hard onto Ludwig's hand, leading him through the crowd as quickly as he could. Ludwig tripped a few times on the ground and, finally, Gilbert caught sight of an abandoned building. He ducked inside with Ludwig, pushing them both against the wall. He looked around and saw a few people with blankets that regarded them for a few seconds before returning to their own business. Gilbert swallowed thickly.

These were the people without homes.

Ludwig whimpered beside him and fell to the ground, unable to hold back his tears anymore. Gilbert flinched, choosing to ignore the tears swimming in his vision. There were a few kids here that looked at them with sorrow, understanding, but didn't offer any help. Gilbert felt his heart sink and he gripped tightly onto his shirt as he allowed himself to fall to the hard ground. And he cried, too. Because no one was really watching. Because that was all he could do.

He gripped his shirt so hard his hands trembled and Ludwig leaned against him, crying as quietly as he possibly could because he was scared, too.

No, Gilbert wasn't scared. Not of the soldiers. He was angry.

He was going to get his revenge.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Ludwig asked curiously.

"Of course I'm sure," Gilbert smirked. "I'm awesome."

"I don't think that's the right choice of words," Ludwig muttered, shaking his head.

"Whatever," Gilbert scoffed. What did his brother know? He was only 12. Gilbert knew better. He was a teenager, after all. And he'd protected his brother for this long. Gilbert narrowed his eyes from the alley way they were in, watching the soldiers passing them by. They were out in the middle of the day, the time when everyone should be at school or work, but neither of them had been to school for six years. He recognized one of them, clearly. From the memory burned into his skull. When he laughed with his fellow soldiers, Gilbert flinched, remembering that laugh as that man twirled that gun above his parents' bodies.

"Maybe we shouldn't get revenge," Ludwig offered. "Maybe we should just move on."

"I can't do that," Gilbert muttered. This had been all he dreamed about, all he thought about for years. Finding this damned man again and having the ability to actually kill him, end everything once and for all.

"Gilbert," Ludwig pressed, pulling on his brother's arm and forcing Gilbert's attention to him. "Don't. I care about what happened to our parents, too, but this is not the way we should do this."

"Then what way should we?" Gilbert snapped, but quietly, just in case the soldiers were nearby. "I need…closure, or whatever the hell it's called. I won't sleep well until that bastard's dead."

"You're so stubborn," Ludwig muttered.

"Good thing, too," Gilbert simply smirked. "Or else both of us would probably be dead by now."

"He's coming," Ludwig sighed and Gilbert turned his attention back to the soldiers. They were making rounds along the street, just wasting time and waiting for someone to be breaking the rules. Gilbert tensed, his hand tightening around the makeshift knife in his hands. It was a glass shard that he'd wrapped some cloth around and it would be good enough. It had to be. "Just…be careful, okay?"

"While you're with me?" Gilbert smirked. "I've got no choice."

He saw the soldier walk by and lunged. Living on the streets for so long was good for a few things. One, he was already about as big as the soldier, and as well built, so he could easily hold the man back. Two, his reflexes were fast, ripping the soldiers gun from his hand before he had a chance to try anything. In another quick motion, Gilbert sliced the man's throat with the knife. The man made a small, gurgling sound before he went limp and Gilbert didn't bother to catch him. He tossed the gun to Ludwig, who easily caught it, and they started running through the shadows of the alleyways.

Gilbert smirked when he heard the other soldiers discover the body. He was pretty good at this.

* * *

"They're not here," Ludwig said gruffly and Gilbert rolled his eyes from where he was leaning against a wall. The town was going home after work. Gilbert had been given a tip by some of the other homeless people that the revolutionaries were going to try something that day, a speech or something. He was interested. Maybe they would have some good ideas. And now that he and Ludwig weren't scavenging every day for a way to survive and they both had guns, they could focus on other things. Gilbert glanced at his brother, frowning at the fact that his brother had already grown to be taller than him. That was totally not fair. Gilbert was the adult here and Ludwig was still a teenager. Not fair.

"They're coming," Gilbert scoffed. "We just have to wait, blend in."

"It's always been hard for you to blend in," Ludwig said pointedly and Gilbert rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"I'm taking that as a compliment," Gilbert said happily. "I mean, who wants to blend in with these losers?"

"A normal person," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert let out a barking laugh. That was when he saw it. One of the men walking through the crowd was obviously different and he was looking at small cards in his hands, working through sentences without saying them out loud. It had to have been the speaker. But the second Gilbert saw him, a bullet went straight through the man's head. He couldn't even hear the gunshot in the crowd.

Gilbert watched with wide eyes as the man fell to the ground and everyone stepped around it because it was dangerous to cause a fuss.

"Well," Gilbert sighed. "Guess he's not here anymore…"

"We can find other revolutionaries," Ludwig sighed, placing a tentative hand on Gilbert's shoulder.

"Hell, if the king's trying to kill them," Gilbert smirked. Obviously this was the work of the king, who else would have someone assassinated before they even started talking? "then they're friends of mine."

* * *

"This plan's sure to work," Gilbert smirked happily. He had a few stolen guns hidden on him, along with Ludwig. They were ready for anything, and they had to be. They had tracked down another speaker in just a few months, which Gilbert was proud of. It was hard to dig up any news on the revolutionaries without a lot of help. But they got another one. The crowd bustled around them as they waited and Gilbert kept an eye out.

"How can you be sure?" Ludwig asked simply.

"I'm awesome, you gotta learn to trust me a little," Gilbert shrugged, glancing at his brother. Seriously, four year age difference and Ludwig's taller than him? How the hell does that happen? He turned back towards the moving crowd and saw a person that set up a makeshift sort of podium and there was a man standing nearby with a fairly obvious gun "hidden" on him. The man had a microphone and speaker and he started to talk. "Got 'em." Now all that was left was to wait for him to finish and talk to him.

"There's someone on the roof," Ludwig observed and Gilbert glanced back at Ludwig before looking up. There was a man on a roof with a rifle, looking around the area. What was he there for? If he was with the king, he would have shot the revolutionary already.

Gilbert didn't have much other time to think because he heard the gunshots behind him. Soldiers. He looked back and saw that there was actually a large crowd of them this time. Gilbert swallowed thickly, moving Ludwig back so that they were just like a lot of the crowd hoping to get away from the soldiers, who were shooting blindly at the people they thought were listening. The speaker stopped talking.

And then Gilbert saw a man from the shadows come forward with a gun, shooting about five soldiers before even being noticed. Gilbert smirked. Just his kind of crowd.

"Come on," Gilbert nodded to his brother, pulling out a gun of his own. They waited until the group had passed before they stood behind them, shooting at whoever they could get to. The man on the roof was helping them out, too. It was just a matter of seconds before all of the soldiers were on the ground. The crowd burst into chaos around them as Gilbert grinned triumphantly, glancing at Ludwig. That is, until a gun was shoved into his face. "Get that bullshit out of my face," Gilbert growled, pulling his own gun on the man in front of him. It was the man that had helped them with the soldiers…

"Don't be stupid," the man snapped and, in one quick motion with his free hand, knocked the gun from Gilbert's grip.

"Stay calm," another man sighed, walking up to them with his gun on Ludwig. Ludwig, being sensible, calmly put his gun away. The man whose gun was on Gilbert said something into some kind of earpiece. "Let's get to an alleyway no one can see us."

"Are you fucking serious?" Gilbert snapped as he was lead to a quiet corner around the chaos. "I was fucking helping, you jackass!"

"Be quiet for two fucking seconds and you'll understand," the man snapped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was fucking helping!" Gilbert nearly screamed at them. That was when he saw a man appear into the alleyway they were in. He had a large rifle on his back and Gilbert could only assume he was the guy on the roof.

"Keep fucking talking and I'll blast out your brains," the man with a pistol growled at the sniper patted his shoulder as he walked right up to Gilbert.

"You should learn to calm down a bit," the sniper laughed, glancing back at the man with a pistol. He stuck his hand out to Gilbert. "My name's Antonio. I saw you on the roof, thanks for the help."

"Yeah," Gilbert stared at the hand. He wasn't quite sure whether or not he could trust these guys. It didn't help his only gun was now on the ground somewhere. "Don't mention it. Who the fuck are you guys?"

"Consider us a revolutionary group," the man with a gun on Ludwig muttered. "I don't intend to hurt you, but if you fire first, I won't hesitate." He then muttered something into his own little earpiece. Revolutionaries? They did shoot soldiers and it seemed like the speaker got away safely. But what kind of revolutionary group were they? They weren't protestors or anything like that…

"How can we trust you?" Gilbert muttered, looking over Antonio and wondering how he would do in a fight against him. He had a familiar posture and way he carried himself that told Gilbert he just might lose.

"I didn't shoot you," Antonio shrugged, his hand still out. He seemed pretty chipper. "You don't have to make any promises now, just come along for a bit and we'll figure something out, okay?"

"What do you think, Lud?" Gilbert asked, glancing at Ludwig, who sighed.

"It's better than nothing," Ludwig said and Gilbert sighed.

"Gilbert," he said, taking Antonio's hand. "The awesome me is at your service."

* * *

"You can't be serious," Gilbert shook his head. "No fucking way, man."

"It's a necessary risk," Arthur sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were in Arthur's "home", if you could call his mansion homey in the slightest, but it was better than nothing Gilbert figured. Arthur had decided to talk to Gilbert and Ludwig alone because of the "sensitivity" of the topic at hand.

"So you don't even care if I die? Great to know," Gilbert rolled his eyes. They'd been a part of this group for a short while, helped them out with a few cases where they had to protect some revolutionaries…Gilbert had started to make friends, real friends. Antonio and Francis were great to talk to, despite the fact that Antonio was actually a soldier and Francis was a noble. And that…whatever the hell he was supposed to call it between Ludwig and Feliciano. It was good to see Ludwig happy, even if the kid never showed it to anyone. And now this assignment?

"There is conclusive proof that the king has a group of assassins working for him," Arthur huffed.

"Yeah? Who gave you that bullshit?" Gilbert scoffed and Arthur glared harshly at him before collecting himself, clearing his throat.

"She was a spy, known as Britannia," Arthur said clearly. "She was recently found dead and I know by the hands of the assassins. If you could-"

"You want me to risk my life on a hunch?" Gilbert snapped.

"Gilbert," Ludwig sighed.

"No, shut up," Gilbert scoffed. "You know what this mission involves? I've gotta pretend that I actually like the king, like I don't want to shove his face in the fucking dirt while I shoot him. I'd be walking among fucking soldiers, biting my tongue so I don't slip up. One fucking mistake and I'm dead!"

"I'm glad you understand the risks," Arthur said smoothly, simply. It was like he didn't even care!

"And why am I the only one you're asking?" Gilbert asked.

"The king knows everything about everyone," Arthur said clearly. "The second he knows your name he'll look into your past. If Francis goes, the king knows he killed his father and is spending mass amounts of money on bullets and guns and spying equipment. If Antonio goes, the king discovers he's a deserter from the military. The same goes for Feliciano and Lovino."

"And you?" Gilbert quirked an eyebrow and Arthur visibly flinched.

"Believe me, it'll be painfully obvious what my motives are," Arthur said darkly. "So it's either you or Ludwig that can do this."

"Don't you dare bring him into this," Gilbert snarled, stepping in front of Ludwig, mostly out of protection.

"I can take care of myself, Gilbert," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert shook his head.

"From our information, they're all your age, Gilbert," Arthur sighed. "You are the best fit for this mission."

"And why the hell is it so important I do this?" Gilbert asked. "Why are you pressing this?"

"It's orders," Arthur said.

"From who?" Ludwig asked and Arthur took a deep breath.

"Matthias, Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil," Arthur said. "The rulers of the country of Merkatus."

Gilbert took a moment to pause as he took in this information. Arthur was…in league with big shots like that? How? What was his past if he had that kind of connection? Why were they pressing something like this? Weren't they logical people?"

"They are in charge of this?" Ludwig asked carefully and Arthur nodded.

"I'm only taking up where Britannia left off," Arthur sighed. "She was the one with the connections, they just saw me as an opportunity to continue moving forward. If we want this revolution to be a success, we need outside support and they are the best we can find."

"And you can trust 'em?" Gilbert asked skeptically. He'd never trust anyone that was rich…unless they proved themselves like Francis. They always had a motive behind their back. They couldn't care less about the little people along the way. The king was a perfect example of this.

"Does it matter?" Arthur asked. "Our job is similar to those assassins from the king. We hide in the shadows and we hurt the other side without a large show of force. If we have you inside…we can do something about them. They'll be a problem in the long run."

"So, what, you want me to kill them from the inside?" Gilbert scoffed.

"If that's what it takes," Arthur sighed.

"Gilbert," Ludwig placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Let's talk about this. In private."

"What the hell is there to talk about?" Gilbert scoffed, brushing off his hand. "I'm not risking my life."

"Consider it," Arthur muttered, turning on his heel and walking out of the room with purpose. That always bugged Gilbert. The man walked around with this…importance. He wasn't even willing to tell everyone else about his past and yet he walked around like he was the most pompous, important rich person around.

"I think you should do it," Ludwig said simply as the door closed, leaving the two alone in the small room.

"Are you fucking serious?" Gilbert snapped, twirling around to face his brother. "That's a death sentence, no matter how you look at it!"

"We all need to take risks for something like this," Ludwig pressed. "I'm willing to go if you don't."

"I'm not allowing you to go," Gilbert said through clenched teeth. "I'm the older brother here, what I say goes!"

"You may be older, but I am stronger," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert glared at him. "I'll go if you don't."

"Don't," Gilbert said. "Don't."

"I believe in this revolution," Ludwig said. "And I believe in the people fighting for it. This will help us be a step ahead of them, if you can get information on them, if at all possible."

"And if I fuck up?" Gilbert asked.

"You won't," Ludwig said. "You haven't yet."

"I've fucked up plenty," Gilbert shook his head, a fake smile on his lips. "You're just too blind to see it."

"I trust you," Ludwig said. "I think you can do it."

"And what happens if I die?" Gilbert snapped, glaring at him. "I'm not leaving you alone. I can't. I won't allow you to get a vendetta against soldiers because your whole family was killed by them like…like me… Okay? Don't even try to say you won't. I'm not leaving you alone. You can't…"

"Then don't leave me alone," Ludwig said, meeting Gilbert fierce gaze with a softer one. "You're awesome, you can handle this."

"Don't pull that bullshit on me," Gilbert laughed slightly. "Okay, so what if I do actually do it? Who knows how long I'd be there, I might not even come back after all of this is over."

"We all have to make sacrifices," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert nodded.

"Fine," Gilbert let out a long sigh. "Okay…"

* * *

"Impress them," Gilbert muttered under his breath, followed by quite a few creative curses for a certain leader that came up with this stupid idea. "How the fuck…" Gilbert shook his head from where he stood. It was an abandoned building, but he knew the homeless were still living in it. He stood in a dark corner with easy access to a window. He was in the capital, painfully close to the capital building.

Just outside, as the sun was falling, there was a…parade of sorts. The king was there. A perfect opportunity to impress him…and the assassins that were sure to be there with him. They didn't know how many there were or any real facts about them, just some vague things like their age range and the fact that they were deadly. Of course they were deadly, they were assassins! Gilbert shook his head and focused. Arthur had a plan.

They would cause a ruckus, Gilbert would make a show of shooting them down…well, "shooting" them down. They'd gotten good at practicing this little switch trick and it looked damn realistic, if Gilbert had to admit.

Finally, finally, Gilbert saw him. The king. He had a float with a throne on it and he smiled happily at the people he passed. He was finally allowing them out past dark, how strange. Gilbert rolled his eyes and took note of the people around him. Five soldiers, standing stock still around him but keeping a close eye out. Most of them held guns, though one of them had swords at his hips. Strange for a soldier…

Come to think of it…they weren't standing like soldiers at all. Gilbert compared them to the others, who had been trained for years. When they stood still, their arms were behind their backs. They didn't hold their guns out in a show like this…These soldiers were holding their guns, their fingers already on their triggers. No soldier kept his finger on a trigger, just in case. They went over bumps and yet they didn't accidentally pull anything, they were more skilled than most soldiers with a gun. They just might be…

Gilbert carefully took a deep breath, holding onto his gun with a secure grip. He had to fit a role now, couldn't slip up on anything. From this moment on, he loved the king, would do anything for him. Grew up on the streets but still felt devoted. He'd kill for that man. No, he was more than a man now. Gilbert wouldn't mind dying for him, as long as the king could continue to live, for the sake of the country.

That was his role.

The gunshots started and Gilbert smirked. Time to play.

Antonio had found a good spot, sure, but Gilbert knew exactly where he was. He had exactly six shots to shoot, he didn't have time to miss. Couldn't miss. He had to impress them, get in good with the king. That was all that mattered now. For now…and only for now…Gilbert was allowed to forget about his brother completely, push him to the side of his mind. He couldn't afford to slip up now.

He ran out into the street as the civilians began to scatter. Everyone had good hiding spots, those "soldiers" around the king seemed at a loss, looking around desperately for something to shoot at. Gilbert smirked as he ran forward. He shot where Lovino was and he made a good show of dying up on the roof. The "soldiers" turned their attention on Gilbert. Perfect.

Impress them…

Gilbert didn't even need to look where he knew Ludwig would be, firing a single shot and seeing the man fall to the ground, playing dead as well. Impress them. He was still running for the king's float and the "soldiers" had their guns on him, just in case he slipped up. But he couldn't slip up now. He slid to a stop and shot at Feliciano, who "died" as well. He was right in front of the float now and the "soldiers" still had a problem finding where they were all hiding.

Next was the hard part. He was perfectly in place. Francis fired his shot and now the "soldiers" could see where he was. The shot was aimed right at the king and so they fired at him in retaliation. Gilbert only hoped that Francis faked it good enough. He didn't have the time to watch. The "soldiers" had forgotten about the bullet, but it was Gilbert's job to protect the king, after all. He jumped to intercept the bullet. It was small, wouldn't make it past him, and so it plunged into the right side of his chest, deep, painfully, and dug its little nest as Gilbert knelt down with his back to the king.

Anything for the king…right…

Gilbert looked up at where Arthur and Antonio would be and shot both of them quickly, with practiced ease. He gave himself a few seconds for him to look around, to see if others were there, before he dropped his gun and held onto his wound, which was practically pouring blood. Now they got to the part they couldn't practice.

He cringed at his own pain as four guns were pointed to his head, along with the tip of a sword.

"Don't move," a voice said clearly and Gilbert nodded numbly.

"Couldn't move if I wanted to," Gilbert muttered darkly, staring at the ground. This had to work. It had to. They couldn't afford for it not to.

"That was very brave of you," the king said simply, from behind him. He sounded…thankful. Damn well better be thankful…Gilbert winced as a new wave of pain wracked through him. "Roderich, I would like for you to give this man medical attention."

"Yes, Your Majesty," another voice said.

"We can bring him to our house to give him a safe place to heal," another voice, this one a woman, said simply. How had Gilbert not noticed a girl among them? He must have really been distracted saving the king.

"Try not to move," a soft voice said as the weapons were removed from him. The king didn't see him as a threat, that was a good step.

"Roger," Gilbert muttered. A needle was pressed into his arm, slowly. He felt more pain, followed by a sickly warm feeling that swiftly washed over him. He felt himself slowly slipping, the pain in his chest replaced quickly by the warm feeling. He felt…oddly content…

* * *

When Gilbert woke up, he was staring at a dull, gray ceiling. It only took him a few seconds to remember what had happened to get him there and he groaned, expecting pain in his chest. He rolled his soldier as a test and found that it did, in fact hurt, but definitely not as much as he expected.

"Good, you're finally awake," a man muttered and Gilbert's eyes immediately darted to where the man was. It was one of the soldiers. He had dark, well-kept hair, and purple eyes hidden behind glasses. Why the hell did he have glasses? No one needed those anymore…Gilbert really hadn't noticed anything about those soldiers around the king… "You're very stupid, taking a bullet like that."

"It was for the king," Gilbert offered, his voice cracked and wavering. How long had he been out? He felt extremely groggy.

"You've been asleep for three days," the man said clearly, looking at him with serious eyes. "The king said he wanted to see you when you woke up." Damn, couldn't the man wait a few minutes for Gilbert to collect himself? "There's a change of clothes here, once you're up, Alfred and Matthew will lead you to the king."

"Sure thing," Gilbert sighed heavily. Then the man left, just like that. Impress them. He had to impress them.

Gilbert gritted his teeth as he sat up, the pain washing over him in minute waves. He took a deep breath and quickly stood up. He was still in his pants from what happened, but his shirt was long gone. Probably thrown away. Gilbert shook his head. New life. Impress them. He changed into these new clothes quickly, ignoring the pain in his chest that was getting worse with all of this movement. They were some good clothes, he'd admit, just not his style. Maybe he could talk to the king about getting him better clothes sometime in the future…

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, hoping it looked alright for a meeting with the king, before he left the room. The door opened for him and he stepped out to see twins, who stopped their conversation the second the noticed him. They had glasses, too, but when Gilbert looked closer, at their oddly mismatched eyes, there were lines across them...

"Let's move," the slightly taller one, the one with shorter hair, said simply and started walking. Gilbert sighed under his breath and followed him, the other one walking beside him. They had a brisk pace that Gilbert had a hard time keeping up with, but he wasn't about to let that show. The one beside him had wavier hair and a light smile on his face.

"Thanks," the one beside him said with a soft voice, far softer than his brother's. "By the way. For what you did for him."

"Anything for the king," Gilbert nodded. It wasn't a lie, he had to fit the role now, no matter what.

"I was careless, allowing that to happen," the one in front ground out. He didn't like it that Gilbert did more for the king than him. Gilbert smirked. He'd take that into consideration.

"It was very brave," the other one offered a small smile to him and Gilbert nodded. If these were actually the assassins, he wouldn't have that rough of a time with them, after all.

They left the small "house" or whatever it was and walked into the streets. They were crawling with soldiers and Gilbert had to fight not to tense around them. Surely, these two would notice. They walked right up to the capital building, which was surprisingly close to them. Neither of the twins bothered talking with anyone as they walked with purpose. The louder one told a soldier to talk to the king as soon as they stopped in front of large doors. Gilbert swallowed thickly, nervously. Sure, he had seen the king before, but that was under completely different circumstances.

Gilbert sure hoped he was impressed because everyone he'd met so far didn't seem to be.

Soon, the doors opened and Gilbert could see the king, sitting on his throne. Some nobles stepped out around them, not bothering glancing at them. Gilbert followed the lead of the twins and walked in, not looking directly at Ivan. The three of them knelt down in front of him, heads bowed.

"Thank you, Alfred, Matthew," the king said, oddly warmly. He had a soft spot for those two…Any information Gilbert could get and store away was important. He couldn't overlook anything, starting now. "And thank you, Gilbert." For a brief moment, Gilbert wondered how the king knew him, but he remembered what Arthur had said. The king had access to everyone's records. He knew everything about everyone. All he needed was Gilbert's face. "I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you did what you did."

"It was nothing, Your Majesty," Gilbert wet his lips. He had to stop himself from shaking.

"As a thanks for what you did," the king said simply, quick to get to the point. Maybe he had another meeting to get to or something, "I would like to propose an offer. I trust you, as I trust the five that you saw with me when you protected me. You have certain skills that do not coincide well with most soldiers or other workers. Would you consider working directly for me? I'm afraid I won't be able to pay you for your troubles, but I will give you anything you need at any time. You will no longer exist to the outside world, though your job will be to…protect me, in essence." There was a brief pause. "Would you consider working for me as an assassin?"

Gilbert took deliberate pause. He had to make it seem like he was actually thinking through it. He didn't know an offer like this existed, he couldn't have. Now he was thinking about it. The king knew about his family, so he was thinking about his brother. He was thinking about what he had to lose, which Ivan knew was nothing.

"I would be honored to, Your Majesty," Gilbert said clearly, his voice practically ringing in the silent room around them.

"Then I thank you for your services," the king said happily. "You may leave." Gilbert gritted his teeth, he hated the way royals talked. But he still rose with a small bow to the king, who he still didn't look at directly, and followed the twins out of the room.

"Welcome to the family, I guess," the louder twin sighed once the doors closed.

"Come on, Al, actually welcome him," the other one nudged him with his elbow before holding out a hand to Gilbert. "I'm Matthew."

"Gilbert."

Gilbert couldn't help but smile a little. At least one of the assassins was cute. He could handle this, he could do this. He just couldn't blow his cover as long as he was here. So, he shoved everything, revolutionary thoughts, his brother, his friends, his past…everything went into a back corner of his head. He couldn't look back on them now. All he had was the present.

* * *

Gilbert sighed heavily, sitting on a curb and watching as cars passed by him at impossible paces. He was slouched, exhausted. It was a day off, of sorts. The assassins from the revolutionary group were now in charge of keeping the princes safe, just in case. Gilbert was always charged with watching Matthew, who never even looked at him, let alone spoke to him. Gilbert huffed, wondering if there was even the slightest chance that they could go back to like they used to be. Back when he was pretending…

"Um…hi," a voice said, startling Gilbert out of his thoughts. He sat straight up and looked back, seeing Matthew standing behind him. How did he even manage to get out? Someone must have been watching him…He must have read Gilbert's thoughts because the next words out of his mouth were, "I snuck out."

"Right," Gilbert muttered, clearing his throat. He didn't know what to say. It had been weeks since Matthew and Alfred had been crowned and it was like they were entirely new people. Gilbert didn't know what to do, what to say. What if the Matthew he wanted to be with wasn't there anymore? That thought scared him more than anything else…

"Mind if we…uh…talk?" Matthew asked carefully.

"Go right ahead," Gilbert nodded numbly, motioning to the curb beside him. Matthew offered him a weak smile before sitting down beside him, though nowhere near close enough for them to touch.

Matthew opened his mouth to talk, but apparently thought better of it and closed it instead. He looked like he was desperately searching for something, anything to say. And Gilbert waited. They washed into a comfortable silence, sitting beside each other as the world continued to turn. Gilbert smiled. This was actually kind of nice. He glanced back at Matthew, who was biting his lip, looking at the ground, a cute little mannerism Gilbert always found that he liked. He was still searching for something to say.

Gilbert couldn't stop himself, he laughed. At first, it was a small chuckle, but soon it morphed into nearly barking laughter as he held onto his stomach. Matthew blinked at him in surprise, a small blush swimming across his face.

"What?" Matthew asked simply, his tone slipping into what he used to use when he was talking with Gilbert. It was like old times again.

"Nothing," Gilbert smirked, calming down his laughter just slightly. "I just…never thought I'd be this happy to be quiet."

Matthew punched him in his shoulder.

* * *

**Oh, my God, this took forever! I can't even! Anyway, I would have actually ended it in the section above the last one, but a reviewer suggested that I add at least a tiny thing so everyone knows how PruCan ended up. So the ending bit morphed into a thing. Matthew finally worked up the courage to say something, except not really. And Gilbert managed to make it work, like he always does. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this backstory, Ludwig is still one of the hardest characters for me to write and it doesn't help he's like four years younger than Gilbert.**

**Anyway, next up is Elizabeta and Roderich, then Francis, then Arthur, and finally Ivan! So I'll see all of you next time!**


	36. Fool's Gold

Backstory 4. Fool's Gold.

She ran as fast as she could through the shadows. The only sound she could hear was the beating of her own heart and her panting breath as she moved through the back alleys she had long-since memorized. She clutched her new treasure to her chest as her small legs practically stumbled over each other. No one was following her, but just in case…she ran a little faster.

Finally, she reached her building, the abandoned space that she had called home for a really long time, and she stumbled inside, running to her corner and almost slamming into the ground as she finally came to a stop. She waited, allowing her breathing and heart to calm down. She looked at her trembling, tiny hands to see the half loaf of bread she held as treasure. She listened and there was no sound outside of the other people that lived in the building and she sighed with relief.

And then she bit down harshly into the bread, the growling of her stomach distracting her from all other thought. She smiled as she swallowed and continued to eat. The person she stole from obviously didn't need this much bread if they had left it out on their kitchen table with no one around. If they had really needed it, they would have eaten it when they had it. She greedily ate the rest of the bread and sighed, almost with disappointment, when it was all gone and she glared at the crumbs that had made their way onto the ground.

Elizabeta stood up and brushed herself off, running a hand through her hair to make herself look…somewhat collected. Her mommy had told her that appearances were everything and, even though she was only six, she was going to make sure she did just that. Everyone else around her was dirty and didn't care about what they looked like and it made her grimace. Sure, they were homeless and, yes, they didn't have any money to keep up their appearances, but that wasn't any excuse.

Elizabeta looked out of the nearby window, seeing that the sun was about to go down. She knew the people he lived with very well and so, because of that, she felt where she was keeping her knives in her pockets. They were starting to get rusted, she would have to find some new ones sometime soon…but for right now, she'd make it through the night. She'd made it through a lot of others, regardless.

* * *

Roderich peeked over the desk to see what his father was writing. He was always curious about what his father was doing, since he worked so hard at his desk for endless hours. His father patted his head as he looked, a soft smile on the man's face.

"What are you doing?" Roderich asked him curiously. His father was already really busy with his company and the parties he had to host, so Roderich was really curious about all of these extra activities he was doing all of the time.

"Something you'll understand when you're older and you take up after me," his father said simply and Roderich nodded simply. His dad said that a lot. There was something he was going to have to do once his father was finished, but he was just a little kid, so he couldn't know about it yet.

But Roderich did remember one thing he was taught in school, secrets weren't good to keep. Secrets didn't make a strong country like the one the king wanted to make.

* * *

She really hated the soldiers. Ever since she stopped being only a little kid and was 13 now, soldiers seemed to start paying more and more attention to her. She didn't like it and generally stayed out of their way, but now they were beginning to recognize her by her face. She was one of the few girls completely on her own, without even a family around to protect her. She wasn't found extremely often, and she usually got away when she was, but it still bugged her. The bruises when the soldiers gripped onto her arm too harshly or the words they called her. But she ignored most of it.

At least the people who stayed in the same building as her had more important things to worry about than her current state. She took a deep breath as she walked along the streets. It was the dead of night, a perfect time for her to sneak into some unsuspecting house and steal some food. It was something she was good at, sneaking into places without being caught. It made her happy, knowing she was at least good for something, in this world full of people impressing the king and living normal lives, she was at least good at being unseen.

And that was just what Elizabeta did as she snuck into a house, going straight for the kitchen as she felt her stomach rumble. This was the only time of day that she could eat, anyway, considering the amount of soldiers crawling around during the day. She smirked at the sight of the unlocked cabinets. She would have thought that people would have learned by now to at least lock up some of their food. But, Elizabeta shrugged, and pulled open the cabinets. She would only take what she needed, after all. This family should do the same, but they could figure that out after they were stolen from.

She took half a loaf of bread, closing the cabinet, and she happily left without another sound, going back home to eat her feast.

* * *

Roderich frowned, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly as he watched the soldiers as they walked through his house, combing through everything that could be of use. He sighed heavily and diverted his eyes to the ground as he heard the struggle come past him. He kicked lightly at the ground as he heard his father fight back against them, flinging colorful curses every which way. And the last thing he said before the door was slammed…

"How could you?"

Roderich flinched.

"You did the right thing, kid," a soldier said, patting his head as he passed him by, holding a large handful of papers full of Roderich's father's handwriting. Roderich nodded at him, simply.

"Yeah, I'd trust him as the new head of the house," another one laughed from where he was investigating a bookshelf.

"Hell, it takes guts to sell out your own dad," another one let out a barking laugh. But it was true. It was hard. But Roderich couldn't sleep well at night, not since his father had told him about what he did in his spare time. He was a revolutionary, he helped fund those speakers that spread lies about the king. Roderich really had no choice. He could ignore his mother, who was crying by the door as soldiers ignored her. He could ignore his father's shouts from outside, causing a scene.

He was the man in charge of his family now. And he was only thirteen.

* * *

Elizabeta growled as she looked at the soldiers around her. They'd been on to her recently, keeping an eye out for her specifically at night. She was thinking about moving from the capital, and that day honestly couldn't come soon enough, if you asked her.

"You think you're impressive, little girl?" one of them laughed and Elizabeta looked over their shoulders. It was a parade and even the king was there. Soldiers were crawling everywhere to protect him. The parade was a recent idea and it had been going on quite a lot in the capital, and apparently these soldiers had been looking for her for a long time now. "'Cause we haven't been able to catch ya yet."

"Depends on if you can catch me now," Elizabeta shrugged, but kept her guard up. She counted and there were about ten soldiers around her. Not much of a challenge, if you asked her.

"You think we're scared?" a soldier smirked.

"You could be," Elizabeta smiled.

"You're nothing impressive, you're just a little girl," another one laughed and made the mistake of reaching towards her. Instinctively, Elizabeta pulled out the knife hiding in her sleeve and lunged forward, slicing into his throat. He wasn't worthy of life, in Elizabeta's eyes at least. The men around him acted quickly, at least they had that going for them. Elizabeta was fast to slice into the hand of a nearby soldier, gripping tightly onto his gun that he dropped, and shooting him.

She shot the others around her, at least the amount she had enough bullets for. After that, the other soldiers were finally fast enough to try to shoot at her. Thankfully, they were stupid enough to aim at the same spot and she was able to duck down and avoid every single bullet. She lunged forward and wrestled a gun from another soldier and successfully shot down the rest of them before tossing the gun to the ground.

Not impressive? Elizabeta wasn't impressive? Well, then, she would just have to show them…

She smirked as she walked towards the crowd of people watching the parade. She showed up just in time for the king, who had two soldiers standing beside him. She smirked. This would be easy. She'd show them who was impressive.

She swiftly ducked into the parade, unseen by most of the people in the crowd, carefully worming her way towards the king's float. Without any hesitation, she jumped up onto the float, ignoring the…oddly expert reactions from the soldiers around the king and pointed her forefinger at the king, her thumb up to the sky.

"Bang," she said with a simple smirk. She wasn't stupid enough to go at him with an actual gun, by no means, but this proved her point very clearly. If she had wanted to, she could have killed him. The soldiers around him both had their guns pointed at her, more than ready to shoot, but they were too late to protect the king, obviously.

The king regarded her with interested violet eyes. Then, in a flash of a second Elizabeta couldn't even see, the man was on his feet and a hand tightly gripped her wrist, pointing her "gun" upwards. He had even pulled his own gun on her, pointing it at the center of her forehead. Elizabeta hadn't even seen him do that… Now, that was impressive.

"I do believe that a delicate girl like you shouldn't be wielding a scary weapon like this," the king said with a soft smile and Elizabeta relaxed her hand.

"Sorry," Elizabeta muttered, still trying to understand just how this man…had managed…Elizabeta was trying to impress…someone, she didn't know…but the king had managed to impress her. "I'll be more careful next time."

* * *

Roderich frowned at the papers on his desk, hoping that this time, he could read the words and actually understand them. But he was wrong. He grumbled under his breath, wracking his hands through his hair as he glowered at the papers. He wasn't good at something like this, he'd learned after two years of his father's absence. But he had to do something…He was the man of the house, now, after all.

Deciding that this was now a lost cause, Roderich swiftly stood, not caring at how his chair scraped against the ground as he did so. He shook his head as he stalked out of the room, almost angrily. He needed to go…for a walk. Yes, that would be nice. A…walk. He ignored the servants around him as he swiftly passed by his room, picking up a few things as he went, and left his house, shoving a hood over his head as he walked. He was just a teenager, after all, he couldn't be caught, out on the streets, at this hour. Soldiers were one thing…but the homeless were another thing entirely. They might make the mistake of trying to kidnap him for the sake of money or food.

He walked with purpose, his attention diverting to the object he had hidden in his pants. A gun. He had six bullets and that was more than enough. There was one thing Roderich didn't completely put a stop to after his father had been caught and that was the emails. Idiots in line with the revolutionaries were too stupid to realize that he had been caught, most likely killed, and now Roderich was given all of the information he needed to catch onto some of their exploits. He hadn't told the soldiers because he knew they wouldn't have been smart enough to come up with this plan. As long as the revolutionaries didn't catch on, which they hadn't yet over two years, then Roderich could continue as he was.

Finally, he reached the warehouse the most recent email had told him about. Some revolutionaries were going to be distributing guns here, in a few hours. Roderich's job was to stop them, at least that was what he was going to do. He had to keep the peace that the king wanted to maintain. He couldn't stop now, after all. He climbed easily to the top of the building and peered into the dimly lit room. He could clearly see four revolutionaries with massive crates, most likely full of guns. He tested a window near the top that swung open for him and he easily set himself up so that he was standing in a comfortable position where they couldn't see him.

He shot once and the first one went down. Immediately, the others looked around for the source, but couldn't find it as Roderich shot down a second one. He went to fire again, but a different gunshot went off and one of them fell. He frowned as this stranger killed the last person standing. He looked forward, where the gunshot came from and saw a man standing, waving at him happily.

"Finally found you," a woman sighed happily from beside him and Roderich flinched, stumbling backwards but keeping his delicate footing on the roof of the building. The woman in front of him smiled happily, tucking her long, brown hair behind her ear. "You know, it's been pretty hard finding you, you should be proud of that."

"Who are you?" Roderich demanded, using the most authoritative voice he could come up with. The woman just rolled her eyes with a scoff.

"Don't use that noble tone with me," she said harshly. "It's not that impressive when no one of importance is around to hear, anyway. Right, Roderich?"

"How do you know me?" Roderich asked tentatively and the woman smirked.

"I know everything about you," she chimed and Roderich noticed that three men, one of them who had shot two of the men, were now in the building, cleaning up the mess. "I know you sentenced your own father to death for treason, that you've been doing escapades like tonight for nearly two years, I know your mother's been drinking herself silly for nearly two years as well…"

"What do you want with me, then?" Roderich asked, keeping his back straight to at least give himself something. This girl didn't know anything about proper posture, that was certain. Despite being fairly pretty, she obviously had no manners to hear of, and she was used to being in charge, something Roderich had been fairly sure was not attractive in a woman. Though…that thought process was certainly changing very quickly as she continued to talk.

"The king's taken in interest in you," she smiled. "Well, at least, in regards to our group. Come with us, and you won't have to go back to that boring paperwork you were staring at for three hours."

"What are you people?" Roderich asked.

"Assassins," the girl giggled, almost innocently. "You obviously enjoy killing a little more than being a noble. Why dontcha just…drop it?"

"I couldn't just drop it," Roderich protested.

"The king can do anything he wants," she winked, turning her back to him. "It's your decision, really, I'm just saying this is what you're better suited to do."

Better suited? He was…he was a noble. He was good at putting up a pretty face for parties and events. He was good at that…stupid paperwork. He had a company to run in order to help this country move. And…yet…he might just be better at killing. He almost wanted to follow these strangers, but he had no basis to really follow them. If he went along and this was some kind of a trap…he couldn't handle himself against four people at once if they were really trained killers.

The woman was walking away, a small, confident sway in her hips. She had obviously found where she was meant to be with this group…Maybe…

"What do I have to do?" Roderich asked and the girl looked over her shoulder at him.

"Come with us and we'll let the king do the talking," she smiled. It wasn't a fake smile, either, but the innocence that was laced in it certainly was. She was a killer, too, had been through probably much more than Roderich had…

He followed her down the side of the warehouse.

* * *

"I don't feel comfortable with you doing this," Roderich said clearly and Elizabeta just shrugged. She could handle this, she'd been through a lot worse and not under the protection of the king. She would be perfectly fine as she was.

"You're just being over protective," Elizabeta offered a smile. "I can handle myself out there."

"I'll be right there just in case you can't," Roderich muttered and Elizabeta gave him a small hug.

"You doubt me too much," she smiled and darted off, through the darkness. The plan was simple and everyone else was already in place. She shucked off her coat and tossed it to the ground. She was wearing a fairly revealing top, perfect for this kind of mission. The king had asked it of them, so who was Elizabeta to deny him? She eventually reached a small square that wasn't lit with lights that soldiers conveniently overlooked more often than they should. There were a lot of girls there, all dressed similarly to Elizabeta, with too short skirts and too tight shirts. And there were plenty of men with plenty of money.

This job was simple. She had to find that one man, the face Alfred memorized long before she did. He was a revolutionary, a well-known one at that. But he had a slight indulgence problem. Elizabeta's job was to pull him away from a crowd, distract him, and kill him. Simple. But the man was known to be somewhat dangerous so she had the others looking out for her just in case. She couldn't imagine why they needed all five of them, but whatever.

She found him and happily slinked over to him. There was already a girl he was paying attention to, but Elizabeta could easily fix that. Enough experience in the past with those soldiers taught her exactly how to distract and please a guy. She wasted no time in walking up to the man and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, delicately and teasingly pushing her assets against his chest.

"Hey," she said with a playful smirk. The guy sent her a smile that nearly sent shivers down her spine with disgust. He was far from attractive…but…oh, well. She shifted to her toes and leaned into his ear, allowing her breath to ghost past it as she whispered. "You in need of a _real _good time?" She had to set herself apart from the others, who were only there for money. Elizabeta hadn't needed money for a long time now, she didn't see the purpose, with the king looking after her like he was.

As simple as that, the man was leading her away from the square, already feeling free to explore the skin she had offered with his mouth. She hid her grimaces well. He really wasn't good at this. At least the soldiers were capable. The man finally pulled her into a rather small building, most likely what he called home, oddly close to that square, and he maneuvered them so that he was sitting on his disgusting couch and she was straddling his lap. She offered a seductive smirk leaning forward to playfully nibble at his neck. This was almost too easy. At least it was over quickly…

Without wasting much time, she found the knife she had hidden in her boot and slid it across the man's throat. He was surprised, to say the least, but didn't fight back much before he died in front of her. Elizabeta sighed, standing up and cleaning off her knife on the man's pants. Disgusting or not, the king had ordered this mission.

And she couldn't deny the king.

* * *

Roderich evened out his breathing as he ran beside Elizabeta through the streets. They were in pursuit of a woman, a very capable spy on the side of the revolutionaries. She had discovered them and ran as fast as she could from the safety of her little hideout. He had been told by the others that he would finally be able to kill someone on this mission. He was the slowest of the group and usually he didn't get a chance to kill someone because the others were too fast. This time, they said they'd let him have it, as long as the mission wasn't in jeopardy.

Roderich saw the bright red hair turn a corner and ran faster, rushing past Elizabeta, who seemed slightly surprised. Roderich smirked. At least he could impress her. He continued running, and smirked when he saw that the woman had ran into an alley with a dead end. Perfect. Roderich didn't even slow down as she stopped at the end of the alley, slamming her hands into the wall. Roderich slammed her into the wall, she wasn't about to wriggle away like she had apparently been able to with many other soldiers.

She had only one name and no one could find out her actual name, or a way to find her. Roderich had no idea how, perhaps she was wearing contacts or something to cover her face to keep from matching her with a picture. Regardless, it didn't matter once she was dead.

"This would be over a lot faster if you stopped struggling, Britannia," Roderich growled.

"I'll be fighting to my last breath," the woman snapped back. Roderich sighed, producing his knife. It would cause less of a mess, be easier to hide (since they still didn't know who she was, they would have to make her death appear as an accident, just in case), and wouldn't bring attention to them.

"A shame," Roderich sighed before bringing the knife to her throat and slicing into it. He caught her limp body before it could fall and sighed with relief. He hadn't failed. That was a plus. Now, they just had to hide the body.

"Good job, Roderich," Elizabeta smiled brightly at him as he turned to see her. She was the only one of the team nearby, at least that he could see. "You did really well."

"It wasn't entirely difficult," Roderich said, only slightly modestly. He had hoped to impress this girl for years now, but the only thing that seemed to impress her was the king himself. He would never be at that level.

Elizabeta happily walked up to him, placing a small peck on his lips and he felt a small blush on his face. "Now let's clean up with mess and get back home, alright?"

"Sure," Roderich nodded. He'd grown used to the girl's odd mannerisms, how easily she grew close to people. She was far from the nobility Roderich was so used to, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

If he was lucky, this bliss could last forever for them.

* * *

**Okay, only slightly bittersweet ending for them. I enjoyed writing this, showing the contrast between their lives growing up. I enjoy it so much. And what I enjoy even more is the fact that Elizabeta and Gilbert are foils to each other, along with Francis (who you will see shortly) and Roderich. They both grew up under pretty much the same circumstances and yet ended up in completely different places. I love it so much!**

**Anyway, enough of me rambling, after this is Francis, so please stick around for that!**


	37. Follow Your Feet

Backstory 5. Follow Your Feet.

Francis didn't like his father. Or his mother. They were always so mean to the people that worked in their mansion. Slaves, his father called them. He hit them when they messed up. His mother didn't want him to talk to them. But he still gave them a smile and offered them his left overs at the end of a meal when he could hear their stomachs rumble. He didn't want to be like his father or his mother. No matter what, though, his father had told him that he would be taking up after him. Keeping up the company, keeping up the house…the slaves…

One day, his father told him that he'd be staying up late. He was only about eight, so it was actually really hard, but the slaves gave him some nice, sugary meals that helped him stay up. He made sure to thank them, not only for himself, but also for his father who never would. It was really dark when his father told him to get dressed to leave. He had a smile on his face that told Francis that this wouldn't be good.

He followed his father closely through the dark streets, almost scared of getting lost. There were a lot of homeless people, he'd been told, and they scared him. More than all of the rich people like his father did. His father lead him to a really old looking building where a few other people were going in and Francis swallowed thickly. He followed him into the building, down a small, really dark hallway, and then into what looked like an old theater. There were already a lot of other rich people everywhere and so they took seats near the back of the small theater. There were maybe 10 rows ahead of them to the stage. Francis was confused. What was this?

He could see a couple other kids, who were roughhousing and laughing with each other. Francis was scared to join them. He sat still in his seat, staring at his fidgeting hands. Now he wished he hadn't had that much sugar. The lights dimmed around them and everyone quieted, taking their seats. Francis felt a horrible pit grow in his stomach.

He heard the chains first and then nearly felt like throwing up once the light turned on the stage. It was a man, fairly well built, obviously foreign like all of the slaves in his house. He had chains around his wrists and his ankles.

"We'll start the bidding at 400," a noble on stage said happily. People started raising their hands and the price raised. Why did his father have to bring him here? He didn't like it here…He could hear the boys from before snickering about how stupid the man looked. A man bought him and one of the kids talked about how he couldn't wait to boss him around. Francis numbly shook his head.

The next one was of interest to his father, a slim girl that looked a lot like all of the other "maids" they had around the house. He only bid twice, though, and was quickly bought out. Francis was almost happy, but he was also sad someone else who was cruel bought her. People shouldn't be…bought. They weren't property, even though his dad seemed to think so. Other slaves were shuffled through, his father not gathering enough interest to actually buy any of them. Thankfully.

One of the slaves near the end caught his interest, though. It was a boy, probably his age, with fairly well-kept, bright blonde hair. He was dressed up for this occasion, unlike most other slaves. He was forced to look up, at the crowd, his dull, terrified green eyes reflecting in the light. A few of the nobles let out whistles at the sight of him, the clothing just slightly too big to the point where a bit of skin showed. It was bruised. Francis didn't…understand.

"He's definitely a pretty one," his father mused, leaning forward with obvious interest. Francis wanted to glare at him, but the price for this single boy rang clearly through his ears.

"50,000."

And people raised their hands. Eagerly. Francis didn't understand the look in those men's eyes, but it sent horrible shivers down his spine. He leaned closer to his father, who was at least keeping his wits about him for the time being. The boy, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on, and just looked on with eyes glittering with tears he wasn't allowing to fall. He was…shaking. He was sold for 100,000.

At the end of this…auction…his father hadn't bought anything, but seemed rather pleased, though stayed quiet as they left the theater and started their walk back home. It was that night that Francis decided that he didn't just dislike his father.

He hated him.

* * *

Francis fought back a scream as he stumbled backwards, hitting the doorway hard. He was shaking he felt like puking. There was so much blood…He swallowed thickly, evening out his breath, staring at the bed. Two bodies laid in it; his father's and his mother's. He held onto the gun tightly, like it was about to jump out of his hands and shoot him, too. It was only a matter of seconds before a few slaves came into the room and took in the situation.

A female slave rushed over to him, shushing him gently as he started to cry, the tears and pleas coming out without his permission. She carefully took the gun from his hands and laid it on the ground as he continued to cry. He didn't know what to do with himself now.

"I'm not…I'm not sorry," Francis muttered to her, resting his head in the crook of her neck. She paused for only a short moment before rubbing his back.

"I'm not either," she said simply. Francis let out a choked sounding laugh. He was an adult now, more or less, he could make these decisions on his own. He was to take after his father and he'd seen him mess up too much for him to allow it to keep happening. And, of course, his mother would tell the soldiers about this sort of thing, so he had to kill her, too. He didn't regret it…

It was okay, he had a plan. He straightened himself up and offered a smile to her. There were so many slaves in his household, he couldn't just…let them go. They'd be found and enslaved again. So, first, he would deal with finding some way for them to get money of some kind. Maybe they could start over in another country with enough. And he'd give them breaks and he would never make them actually do anything for him unless they wanted to. And he would call for the soldiers in the morning, telling them it was revolutionaries. And they'd take his parents away, he'd be blame free because why was there a need to investigate if it was obviously revolutionaries? He could take over the company. He could make things…make things right.

"Everything's going to be okay now, I promise," he smiled at her, but the tears continued to fall. He couldn't help it.

* * *

Francis really needed some sleep. That much he was certain of. He'd missed his 18th birthday in favor of studying, trying to find something that could possibly help him. He was getting very good with technology, yes, but that wouldn't help him unless he was really good. He wanted to be able to do something to change this country, he couldn't just leave it like it was. He had plenty of money to do that. He only spent money on himself when it came to essential food. The rest went to all of the slaves. The ones that had long-since left to Merkatus and the ones that still remained. Until he could secretly give them enough money to leave, he gave them plenty of food and clothing and anything they could possibly need. And he still had more money than he knew what to do with. He could be useful…somehow, he just had to find out how. For now, that meant being an expert in everything involving technology that he could get his hands on. Perhaps with that information up his sleeve, he could be useful to…someone. Anyone.

But revolutionaries would never turn to a noble for help, now would they? Francis huffed, leaning back in his chair as he thought. He had to find some way to be of use. He may be different, but there were still slaves suffering at the hands of unforgiving masters, people that suffered on the streets because they couldn't afford food. His mind wandered to that slave he had seen that night, the one that everyone took so much interest in. He knew now that the boy was a sex slave, and apparently a good one if he sold for so much. It made him sick to think that there were some people that were willing to do that. Even to children…Francis shook his head. He couldn't get emotional now.

He had to think clearly.

He had to be of use to the revolutionaries and he would do that from the sidelines for as long as he could, but sooner or later, he would come out of the shadows. He would help them. He had to. He didn't have any other choice.

* * *

Francis sighed heavily, tapping his finger impatiently on a nearby table as he sipped at champagne. It was a party, completely filled to the brim with people being served by slaves. But no one said out loud what they were. That was illegal. As long as it was a secret, everything was perfectly legal. Francis rolled his eyes. He hated it here. But he'd finally managed to get in contact with some revolutionaries. After a long year of studying more than his brain could hold and sleeping far less than his body needed, he made contact. And they said to meet with someone there. It was just a shame they obviously neglected to inform him what his contact looked like. They knew his face, yet he wasn't allowed this person's face?

"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself as much as I am," a voice quipped behind him and Francis sighed, about ready to start another stupid conversation he didn't hope to enjoy. He took a sip of champagne as he turned to see the man and nearly spit out the liquid as he took him in. He carefully swallowed as he regarded the man. Well kept, but slightly ragged bright blonde hair…and most certainly those intensely sad, hopeless eyes that held a little bit of fire in them. He was dressed just as everyone else, but there was something about it, the way he carried himself, and just how snug his tie was around his neck, that made it seem like this man _needed _to feel important. "Surprised?" the man smirked slightly, taking an elegant sip of his drink, as if he had done it all of his life. But Francis knew he hadn't done it all of his life. This was the slave from that first night his father had taken him to a slave trade. How had he…?

"You could say I wasn't expecting to see a face like yours here," Francis said simply. Surely, considering the life this man had had in the past, it wouldn't be wise for Francis to bring it up. As far as this man was concerned, Francis knew nothing about him. But there was a chance he could be with the revolutionaries…The closer Francis looked, he was able to see that the man had hints of being foreign in his face, but it was hidden fairly well. He fit in quite well, like he was meant to be with the party guests, not the slaves. But Francis figured that must have been on purpose.

"Right," the man sighed. He drank from his champagne once again before looking harshly at Francis. "I have a few questions for you. Depending on how you answer, I might not kill you." Francis blinked at the harshness of his words. "What do you want with this group of revolutionaries?"

"This group?" Francis asked curiously, ensuring that their conversation seemed like every other pointless conversation morphing together in the ballroom.

"Surely you know there are many groups," the man rolled his eyes. "Ours would be the most popular, considering the leadership behind the scenes…"

Francis had no idea what went on "behind the scenes", but he just nodded. Fine, he could work with this. The most well-known had to be the easiest to contact, he had managed to worm his way through a very large, anonymous network, until he reached a place that knew his name and face and information. Most likely from a spy, but he wasn't going to question anything.

"I would have to say my hatred for this country spawns from my father," Francis said simply. "He was a vile man. He treated his slaves like property he could abuse, wasted his money on objects worth nothing in the long run, and only cared for appearances. The more I've looked at society, the more I've realized that far too many people are allowed to act like that. I want to stop this."

"And your perspective on slavery?" the man asked, forcing out a casual voice as he took a rather large drink of his champagne. Francis smiled simply.

"I think it should be banned in private, just as it should be banned in public," Francis said simply. "No human should be treated as property."

"That's rare to hear from someone of your status," the man snorted. "What are your skills, aside from being a prick from birth?"

"My father's…my company deals with computers and electronics," Francis said smoothly. "I know practically everything about any piece of technology you could obtain in this country. I can hack into most anything, unless the king himself uses it. I can fight somewhat, though my skills are best placed elsewhere."

"How do you feel about killing someone?" the man asked.

"Well," Francis mused, swirling the small remaining liquid in his glass. "I've already killed my parents, so I believe I'm about numb to it now." The man looked at him quizzically, as if he was trying to answer some of his questions himself. The man was nervous, he wasn't used to this, by any means.

"There's no going back once you do this," the man said clearly. "Your current life…it will become a fantasy if you decide to go with me. You're rich, so your money would be used for our purposes, you won't have any left by the end of this. There's no guarantee for how long you'll live, considering you'll be going directly against the king."

"That is exactly what I wanted to hear," Francis smirked, drinking the last of his drink and wishing there was already more. He was sure he could convince this man to allow some of his money to go to the slaves remaining in his house.

"Last thing," the man said pointedly. "We aren't a group that is going to go around making speeches or doing protests. We are going to be something…special. The ones orchestrating all of this have taken notice that the king has a group of assassins to do his bidding. We are going to fight fire with fire, in a sense. You will have to help me find appropriate candidates, naturally. And you'll be expected to be one of those candidates."

"I believe I can handle that," Francis said simply.

"My name is Arthur," the man said simply. "Arthur Kirkland."

"Francis," he bowed his head lightly to him. "I would love to hear more about these plans you have."

* * *

Francis liked Arthur's mansion. Well, he wasn't quite sure who it originally belonged to, but he still enjoyed it. It was bright, happy, and the kitchen was flawless. There were servants, most likely past slaves, that were all smiles, more than happy to be there and help him, especially when he treated them with kindness. It was around lunchtime one day when Francis had made Arthur something to eat. He noticed that the man hardly slept or ate much, as he was far too busy to even notice that he was still, in fact, human and still needed to sleep and eat.

So, with the lunch on a tray, he walked to the study, where Arthur was nearly constantly. He carefully opened the door, offering a soft smile and nod to the woman that attempted to help him. As he stepped into the study, however, he smiled slightly as he lightly closed the door. Arthur was lying on a couch on his back, his arm slung over his eyes to block the light, as he breathed softly signaling that he was asleep. Francis lightly shook his head and placed the tray on a nearby table, thankful that it wouldn't go bad after allowing Arthur to sleep for just a few hours.

He did notice, however, that a frown was tracing the man's face. Arthur was subtly flinching as well. Francis sighed, kneeling beside his friend. He had noticed small things about him. He never allowed a weakness to show in front of anyone, and that included never sleeping in front of someone. He was uncomfortable with having his back to anyone, and he didn't like anyone seeing his neck. There was nothing he could do for Arthur, sadly, but he would do what he could for him.

"I'm sorry," Francis sighed, lightly patting Arthur's hand that wasn't dangling from his arm on his face. "I wish there was more that I could do." Arthur didn't flinch anymore when Francis touched him. This time, however, he did do something interesting. Arthur turned over onto his side, his back to Francis.

Francis smiled softly before standing. He nodded to Arthur as he left the study. He had to appreciate the little things.

* * *

Francis laughed beside his friends as they sat in their hideout. He never would have expected, in joining a group for assassins, that he would find such happy people. He and Arthur had managed to find a rather large group, all considering, that worked fairly well together. He was currently sitting with his friends in the living room of their hideout. Gilbert and Antonio were on the couch with him while Ludwig stood to the side, Feliciano talking his ear off. Lovino was slouched on the floor, pretending not to care about his brother. Arthur was sitting slightly to the side on a computer Francis had gotten for him, doing research into…whatever it was he looked into.

"Come on, you can't deny I'm the hottest one here," Gilbert smirked happily, lounging back into the couch.

"And how many people have you managed to sleep with?" Francis asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, I've had more important shit to do with my life," Gilbert laughed. "I mean, seriously, how many of us have actually slept with someone?"

"I've slept with a few," Antonio mused.

"You would be amazed how many noblewomen love a person who is soft on his own slaves," Francis smirked and Gilbert glared at the two of them.

"Okay, okay, I can totally get Francis," Gilbert put his hands up in surrender, "but what fucking idiot sleeps with a soldier? Let alone one that fucking talked as much as you did when you were one."

"I can't give away all of my secrets," Antonio shrugged.

"The only fucking girls that flirted with you were prostitutes," Lovino grumbled and Gilbert howled with laughter.

"Would you keep it down?" Arthur sighed. "Some of us are trying to work."

"Aw, come on, Artie!" Feliciano smiled. "We've got some downtime right now! Might as well enjoy it."

"Mr. Stick Up His Ass has never enjoyed anything," Gilbert snorted. "Same goes for Luddy."

"I told you to stop calling me that," Ludwig said.

"Gilbert never obeys orders," Antonio snickered.

"Yeah, because you're so fucking great at obeying orders, too," Gilbert nudged Antonio with his elbow.

Francis couldn't help but smile. This was nice. It made him happy that he had sacrificed his life before this group. Nothing could hold a candle to this life.

* * *

**Oh, my God, not a bitter ending. That's weird. Yeah, Francis' wasn't that deep, thought the beginning was a little harsh. He just handled it well. I enjoyed his meeting with Arthur, mostly because it's fun to see those two before the entire group was formed. And then I can't get enough of the original group, mostly because I missed writing Feli so freaking much. I killed him off so early…**

**Anywho, next up is Arthur's. Warnings will be up before that, but y'all know enough about his past to know what to expect from something like that.**


	38. Uprising

Backstory 6. Uprising.

(A/N: This chapter deals with some heavy stuff, but nothing explicit. This story is remaining T. Obviously, sexual abuse, child abuse, physical abuse, scarring is involved due to the fact that it's Arthur's backstory. You've all been warned.)

He had to…to…tune it out. F…forget about it. Forget about the searing pain, forget about the fact that he desperately wanted to cry…but he couldn't. He'd risk getting hit again. He had to just…just take it. Until Master was finished, he could deal with the pain. Finally, finally, the man was done with him, leaving him alone in that room with the really, really big bed. It wasn't often Arthur had the chance to leave it.

The second the door closed, Arthur didn't hesitate to let the tears fall, pouring down his face. He couldn't be loud, but he could still cry into the bed. They'd be changing the sheets soon anyway. The other slaves. The ones that always looked at him with either scorn and distaste or sorrow and sympathy. But they weren't allowed to talk to him. He was only allowed to talk to Master and no one else. He'd almost messed up once, almost said thank you to a nice one. He never saw her again.

He shivered at the cold that soon surrounded him and curled into a little ball on the bed. He never had any clothes, they were just a waste of time to Master. He was always either too hot or too cold, but he couldn't let that bother him.

Once he got out all of his crying, his cleaned up his face with the sheets, hoping he didn't look red and puffy. Master hit him especially hard when his face didn't look good. That was all he was there for; to look pretty while Master did what he wanted. Since before he could even remember, that had always been his life. He had heard the slaves whispering to themselves once. The second he didn't need his mother, this was to be his fate.

In the hours that followed, the slaves came in, changed the sheets, quickly bathed Arthur, and left him alone to shiver at the cold. He didn't know anything about what was outside of that room, aside from the bathroom that he was allowed every once in a while…But he had heard talk about seasons, how it would get warmer and colder, how there was something called the sun, the moon. He wanted to see what was outside of that room…

All of his thoughts were washed away as Master trudged into the room, tired from a long day's work, and Arthur plastered a smile on his face, far from ready for the pain that would soon return.

* * *

Arthur hated the shackles. Master loved them. The way the chains clattered on the ground as Arthur stumbled, hardly able to walk. Partly due to the fact that he wasn't quite used to walking and partly due to the fact that his entire body still hurt from just a few hours before. But now he was walking through a really dark alleyway, unable to keep up the pace his master wanted. He constantly tumbled to the ground and all Master cared about was that there were no scrapes. He had to be in good condition.

They reached an open area, then, with a really bright light. Master shoved him forward, into the center of the light that nearly blinded him. Around the light, he could see…people. A lot of people. He heard a lot of people talking and whistling at him and he didn't know what to do. Master hadn't told him anything. Most of what Arthur could think about was the fact that the shackles were _hurting _him. They were too heavy, too tight. But Master didn't care.

So many words were flung around too fast for him to understand, and then he was forced away, back into the darkness too fast for his eyes to adjust. Master lead him by the chains trapping his wrists, tugging him forcefully through the black hallways while Arthur blindly adjusted to the change in lighting.

They stopped in a hallway with fairly good lighting and Master told him to stay put. So he did, catching his breath and staring at the ground. He didn't understand what was going on. He'd been taken from the room, unable to see the world around him as he was moved, despite how much he wanted to…and now…

"This is him, huh?" another man walked up to them, the same smile on his face that Master usually had.

"He's all yours," Master said and Arthur blinked in surprise. What was going on? Had he done something bad to Master? Was he getting rid of him? But he didn't know this man in front of him.

"How's he deal with pain?" the man…his…new Master…asked. Arthur fought not to flinch. He knew what was coming. One of Master's favorite games to play. Now Master…his old Master…was smiling. He'd brought his favorite toy, too. The whip.

"Watch," Master smiled and Arthur obediently turned his back, knowing just what would happen if he didn't. A flick, a snap, a wicked amount of pain. Arthur flinched, but he didn't cry out. He couldn't. Or Master would be mad. Both Masters laughed.

"Amazing," new Master laughed as old Master landed another blow. "Let me try." New Master was a lot rougher, a lot harder. It took all of Arthur's strength not to cry out as he gripped hard onto the wall, at least as best as he could. He fought back a whimper. He was bleeding, but apparently new Master liked that. He landed a few more hits, laughing happily as he did so. Finally, Arthur couldn't take it, he cried out at the last it, and froze in absolute fear. But he didn't speak. Not unless Master said so. "Did I say you could fucking speak?" A thick hand slammed into his face, forcing him to clatter onto the ground with the chains. His shirt was now in tatters and his back was bleeding something fierce. But he couldn't run. He knew that. He breathed deeply, not looking new Master in the eye. He was told that was bad. "Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you!" new Master snapped and Arthur blinked, looking up at the terrifying man in front of him. He gave a wicked smile and Arthur wanted to cry, but he was sure he ran out of tears years ago.

* * *

Arthur laid on his side. It hurt too much to lie on his back. He wished he had a window. That was what that part of the wall was called that let you look at the outside world. Arthur wanted to see it. So bad. But he could barely walk, he could barely speak, even when Master wanted him to. He would never be able to see outside. And he knew it.

Arthur sighed as slaves came into his room and he moved from the bed, shackles clacking onto the floor. Master liked the shackles, they were a fun game. Sometimes, he found joy in sprawling Arthur out at impossible angles with the shackles. Arthur could barely remember having them off since he came there. The slaves just washed him around it, leaving him without clothes as usual, and he sat back down on the clean sheets. It was a ritual by now. One that Arthur knew all too well.

It would never change, would it?

* * *

"And how old is he, again?" new Master asked. It was a woman. That part startled Arthur the most. He'd been sold again because old Master needed money. He was almost happy to say goodbye to old Master. He liked him less than his first Master. He didn't know about this woman, though. She looked just like all of the others.

"10," old Master said proudly. Arthur had no idea that was how old he was. He'd been like this for 10 years. The thought made him feel a little hollow inside.

"Perfect," new Master smiled.

"Any other questions?" old Master asked curiously.

"Nope," new Master chimed. "You can leave now," she said bluntly and old Master left. Arthur couldn't allow himself to relax. He was startled, however, when new Master knelt down in front of him. She had bright, happy green eyes that Arthur had never seen before…in anyone. She had very long red hair that was obviously well taken care of. She…smiled at him. "Hi."

"H-Hello," Arthur barely managed out. He didn't know a lot of words, so he hoped new Master wouldn't make him speak too much.

"What's your name?" new Master asked. Arthur stared at her in wonder. His other Masters hadn't cared about his name, calling him…other things. It was a wonder that he remembered his name.

"Arthur," he muttered.

"It's nice to meet you, Arthur," she smiled at him and produced a small key from her pocket, probably from old Master. She delicately took one of Arthur's hands, much more delicately than he was used to, and unlocked the shackle, showcasing the bright red, puffy scars that were underneath. Arthur bit his lip. She did the same for his other wrist and both of his ankles. "It looks like we'll need to get you shoes, huh? How well can you walk?"

"N-not very, Master," Arthur said.

"Oh, please don't call me that, love," she cooed softly, running a delicate hand through his hair. "Call me…hm…call me Britannia, alright?" Arthur nodded numbly. "It's quite a walk to my car, would you like for me to carry you?"

"I can walk alright on my own," Arthur muttered. That was far from true. His feet were raw from walking there already. But he couldn't inconvenience Master…Britannia.

"You're very brave," Britannia smiled and easily picked up Arthur, resting him on her hip easily. Arthur was surprised, to say the least, but Britannia simply started humming softly to him as she started walking. She had a very soothing voice and Arthur found his eyelids drooping without his permission as he clung to her. He could ignore the confused faces of everyone else around them, solely focused on the sound of Britannia's humming. He smiled as he fell asleep before they even left the building.

* * *

Arthur drowsily woke up, warmly wrapped up in a thick layer of blankets. The pillow under his head was soft, nearly soft enough to lull him back to sleep. He was so warm…he felt almost happy. He smiled as he nuzzled into the warmth. But that was when he remembered. He had a new Master to please. He sat bolt upright, used to ignoring the pain in his backside. His bed was…rather small. Not big enough for two people. His room was rather small as well, with a weird furniture he'd never seen before. And there was something odd in the wall. He peered closer and saw that it was really…bright. He wasn't sure if he liked it. It wasn't a light…it was different.

But he didn't dare move from his bed to look closer. Britannia might not like that.

The door opened and he stiffened slightly, offering his usual smile, but it dropped when Britannia gave him a sweet, innocent smile.

"Morning," she said sweetly. "I'm happy you're awake." Arthur just nodded and noticed that Britannia was holding a small tray with…food on it. Arthur was usually scarcely fed and he felt his stomach growl something fierce. Was this some kind of trap? Was he not supposed to eat this? She placed the tray beside him on the bed. "You can go ahead and eat what you like. I know you're hungry." Arthur nodded and reached forward to the small roll that laid on the tray. There was other food that he didn't recognize and he wasn't sure if he could trust it.

"I'm really sorry," Britannia sighed, almost sadly, as she looked Arthur in the eye, "for everything that's happened to you." Arthur was almost scared. No one apologized to him. Ever. He usually apologized. "But I promise, nothing bad will happen to you anymore."

"What do you mean?" Arthur muttered. He'd barely eaten any of his roll, he usually wasn't very hungry when Master allowed him to eat anyway.

"Arthur," Britannia sighed, running a delicate hand through his hair. Arthur had learned a long time ago not to flinch. "I promise you don't have to be scared anymore. I'll never make you do anything you don't want to. You're safe here. You're not a slave anymore."

"I'm…what?" Arthur muttered. He hadn't even noticed that he'd dropped his roll. This had to be some kind of a trick. There was no way that he wasn't a slave. He…he was a slave. He wasn't anything else. He wasn't…human, like everyone else.

"It takes some time, I understand," Britannia smiled. "For now, eat. Please. I know you're going to grow up big and strong, you just need time. Rest as much as you need to."

"But…you…bought me," Arthur muttered and Britannia nodded.

"So no one else would," she said soothingly. She started humming again, a soothing sound. Arthur didn't know what was coming over him, but he saw tears beginning to cloud his vision. He shook his head, biting his lip, to keep them away. Britannia just continued to lightly stroke his hair and the tears started to pass. But Arthur thought that he'd ran out a long time ago. A small sound slipped past his throat and he didn't care about the tray of food to his side, he clung to the woman beside him, both hands clinging to her shirt as he cried, harder than he'd ever cried before.

She continued humming and stroking his hair with one hand, hugging him back with the other.

For the first time in Arthur's life, he felt safe.

* * *

"Hey, Britannia, I was wondering…" Arthur muttered from his desk in the library, where he was looking up from a good stopping point of his book. Britannia was at her own desk and she looked at him with honest curiosity. "Why do we call you that?" All of the former slaves in Britannia's mansion called her that name. But Arthur knew it wasn't her real name. It couldn't be.

"I stopped going by my real name a long time ago," Britannia smiled softly. "It doesn't feel right to use the name of nobility if I don't even consider myself as such anymore."

Arthur nodded. He'd learned a lot in a few years, practically absorbed in books when he had the time. He could understand the words she used like "nobility" now. He was kind of proud of himself, but Britannia had told him to avoid being too proud. It was…unbecoming for a gentleman, as she put it. He was a gentleman now, he wasn't what he used to be, just like her.

"As a spy for the revolutionaries, I took on this name," Britannia continued. "It's just kind of stuck for me. I like the name."

"I like it, too," Arthur said happily and Britannia smiled at him.

"Britannia," a former slave poked in his head, cleaning off his hands on a rag, "your guests have arrived."

"Thank you," she smiled. The entire mansion was crawling with former slaves, all of them doing work around the house, but only when they wanted to. Of course, for a woman like Britannia, they were all more than happy to do what they could without fear of being scolded for being too tired. And the older ones had started disappearing because of Britannia's money.

"I'll go help with the food!" Arthur said happily, shoving away from the desk and running past Britannia to go to the kitchen. Everyone smiled at him as he passed. He was the youngest and they told him to study as much as he could, be smart unlike them since most of their lives they had been slaves. They knew about his past, too, what kind of slave he had been, but never brought it up. If Arthur was fast enough, he could see their looks of pity that they gave him behind their back.

But Arthur had been able to learn how to shove his past into the back of his head, treat it like it never happened. It was just a bad dream. It never happened…

Arthur stopped when he reached the kitchen, seeing that everyone was already moving the food to the dining room for Britannia's guests. He took the basket of rolls and followed everyone, putting the rolls at the center, where they always went. Everyone else was so much better at basic chores than him, but he tried to not let that bother him.

"Thank you for helping, Arthur," Britannia smiled at him before going to individually thank the other former slaves still in the room. Arthur practically beamed, he was so happy. The guests came into the dining room, all of them nodding understandingly at the slaves, though they did seem slightly startled by Arthur and how young he was. But he was used to that by now.

Seeing as this was a secret meeting for Britannia the Spy, everyone left and Arthur darted to the back door, opening it and taking in the wonderful, fresh air. This was his favorite thing to do. Go out at night, into the large backyard, and look up. The sky was so beautiful, one of Arthur's favorite things about the outside. The books he read described it so well, saying that the stars twinkled, that the moon shone brightly in the darkness. A cool breeze whipped past Arthur as he stared up, in the middle of the backyard. He couldn't stop the smile on his face. This had been what he dreamed of for years, trapped in a room his whole life. He loved it so much. This freedom. It was all he could ever ask for.

* * *

No…she couldn't be…There was no way…

Arthur shook his head as he backed up from the former slaves that had told him the news. Britannia's body…had been found…run over in the street. She was…but she couldn't be…

Arthur ran. As fast as his legs could carry him. He ran to one of his safe havens, the library, slamming the door shut behind him. He fell to the ground, tears rising to his eyes. He knew that the others must have been just as torn up as he was…but…she couldn't be…She'd told Arthur earlier that day that she'd teach him how to dance. She _promised._ Arthur choked on his own breath as he tucked his legs close to him, the tears falling without his permission.

She could be dead, dammit!

No one was knocking on the door, no one was trying to calm him down. Everyone else was too busy dealing with the loss themselves. Arthur let out a broken sounding hum, trying to copy the song Britannia always hummed to him when he was upset. When he had his nightmares every night. She would no longer be there, she was unable to help him anymore. Arthur shook his head miserably.

After what felt like hours, Arthur finally stood up. He glanced at Britannia's desk and found that it was swiped clean of her usual paperwork. All that remained was a single piece of paper with her clear handwriting on it. Most of the people in the mansion couldn't read, they had decided that it was too late to learn. But Arthur had been determined to learn when he was younger.

Arthur tentatively walked forward and took hold of the paper. It was a letter…more like a will. Had she known that she was going to die?

_Below is all of the information __I learned on my specific target over the past few years. _

_The king has a group of assassins working for him. They have been working together for years, perhaps their whole lives. It took years for me to discover this and it's going to end in my death. They know me. They know my face. I just hope they don't come after the rest._

_I leave everything I have left, money, property, the lives that were previously in my care, to Arthur Kirkland. I trust his determination and wit to make it farther than I could have. Please, Arthur, take this information with you and move forward. For the sake of this country. You'll have the power to change something._

_On the backside of his paper is a number I need you to call from a safe line. Tell them your entire name, including the last name I just gave you. They'll tell you where to go from here. Please don't give up._

_And, when you can, use some of my money to help everyone else get out of this country, they're lives are in your hands now._

_-Britannia_

Arthur…Kirkland…But…He couldn't take up that responsibility… With shaking hands, Arthur turned over the paper. There was a number, clear as day. And this was definitely her handwriting, no mistakes about that. Her death wasn't an accident…She had been killed by that group of assassins…He would get his revenge, sure enough.

But he couldn't tell the others. Her death had been an accident to them. They couldn't have any ties to the revolutionaries…or else they couldn't leave this country. It was as simple as that. He'd get them the help they needed…and take up after Britannia.

* * *

Arthur took out his carefully folded piece of paper as he glanced around. He'd gotten a phone from a rather shady guy on the street, but that didn't matter. It was far from the king's ability to track. It had taken a few months, but he'd managed. He could finally call these mysterious people Britannia had been working for. He punched in the number and put the phone up to his ear. It rang twice.

"Yo, who the hell is this and how'd you get this number?" a voice asked coldly through the device.

Arthur took a deep breath. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, Britannia gave me this number."

"Yeah?" the voice asked skeptically. "Britannia didn't have any relatives, nice try. You working for the shit king in that country, or what?"

"No," Arthur said. "I'm telling you the truth. She was killed by the group of assassins she had found working for the king."

"So then what were you to the woman?" the voice asked. Arthur sighed.

"I was a slave," he admitted, glancing around the street once again, just to make sure. "She rescued me."

"Let's say I give you the benefit of the doubt," the man on the other end sighed. "What can a slave do to help us out?"

"I'm going to find the group that killed her," Arthur muttered darkly. "And I'm going to kill them."

"Tell me your honest opinion of the king," the man said.

"I hate him," Arthur muttered. He still remembered the day Britannia had told him that the king allowed slavery in private. Allowed the selling and buying of other humans. He couldn't…allow someone like that to continue living. "I'll kill him, too."

"Great," the man on the other end quipped. "Even with the king's permission over there, you're not allowed to say shit like that. Congrats, Arthur. You think you're ready to take up where she left off?"

"I'll do all I can," Arthur said.

"Perfect," the man chimed. "The name's Matthias, by the way. I'll give ya an email that king can't trace and we'll stay in contact that way. Phones are way too lame."

Arthur nodded jotting down the email.

"Don't die," were the man's parting words to him and Arthur sighed, hanging up the phone and dropping it to the ground. He was shaking. He didn't even know if he was capable of killing anyone at all, let alone the king. And that group…he was just mad at them. He was beyond furious. They had killed the person that meant the most to him. But…maybe…just maybe, if he could convince them to go against the king…he could forgive them…

* * *

Arthur couldn't stop the small smile on his face as he watched the three at the table. He had been designated as the first guard that day. Gilbert was just outside the room. Alfred and Matthew sat beside each other while Mathias sat on the other side of the table. Mathias looked exhausted but the two princes seemed fairly pleased with themselves.

"This is something I'm not budging on," Alfred shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come on," Mathias groaned. "You've heard about pleasing a few to shut 'em up, right?"

"No way," Matthew shook his head as well. Arthur smiled and he could practically feel Mathias glare going his way.

"What, do you think you could stop me from doing it?" Alfred smirked slightly, a dark glint in his eyes. "Hey, I'll play puppet as long as you want me to, but I'm not dropping this."

"It's not even that big of a deal," Mathias muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"I think it is," Matthew said, leaning forward just slightly. "These are people we're talking about, right?"

"Look, we make a lot of promises going into these revolutions," Mathias said simply. "Not everything's that realistic."

"I think this is perfectly reasonable and realistic," Alfred mused. "Didn't your country ban it, too?"

"And we need to keep this country, and all of its influential people, happy," Mathias said simply.

"How much do you wanna bet that if all of those slaves had the guts and the power, they'd be able to take over this country on their own," Alfred smirked again. "They're pretty strong after all they've had to endure for so long, don't you think?"

"Fine, you wanna tear your country apart? Be my fucking guest," Mathias shook his head. "But you're doing as I say from here on out."

"Sure," Matthew gave a perfectly innocent smile. "Thanks for understanding."

"Thanks," Arthur muttered under his breath and Alfred turned to give him a smile accompanied by a thumbs up.

* * *

**Cute ending is cute. Can't deny. Arthur's backstory has been planned for a looooong time, but I never got around to it until now. So happy with it. You've all been catching glimpses of Britannia all through the story, especially in the backstories, and now you know her absolute connection. No, she is not related to Arthur in anyway, she just gave him her last name so it would seem like he was. So he could use her money. After that, Arthur kind of just dove into the mentality that he could never be treated as a slave again, becoming obsessed with the fact that he now had a last name, despite the fact that it was fake, and clothes and proper etiquette and all of that jazz. I love Arthur's character in this story so much, I fell in love with him early on.**

**Hope you enjoyed, last one is Ivan. And that's it, all over! See ya next time!**


	39. Running Out

Backstory. Running Out.

The blood, the screams, the city he'd seen so many times torn apart. Ivan had to sit and swallow all of it. Well…not exactly sit. He had to go forward, make more blood mark the streets, cause those screams…tear apart that city. So he marched forward, the soldiers that followed him…a stupid twenty-six year old…they did what he told them. He told them what he was told. He had joined this revolution for innocent purposes.

He thought this was for the better. He still did.

This country, the country he lived in, was just a mishmash of different kinds of people that none of the three surrounding countries wanted anything to do with. But they held control. They made it a "country" by name only. It held no real power. There were a king and a queen and their two baby princes. They were figureheads, ruled by the leaders that surrounded them. Ivan was tired of it. So when he saw people turning to the streets, attempting to change something for the better…he joined them. He left his sisters behind and told them to keep each other safe while he fought on his own.

Leaving his sisters was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. Their parents had died years before due to lack of food, they wanted their children to survive. Ivan was not the oldest, but he was the man of the house, so he had to act like it. His elder sister, Katyusha, was kind-hearted, almost too much for her own good. Ivan had to chase away many suitors that only wanted her for her breasts. His little sister, Natalia, was…crazy, yes. But she was fiercely protective over Ivan, it took quite a lot of coaxing to convince her to stay. They were everything to Ivan, the reason he was trying to better this country. And, eight years later, as he marched down the streets in the capital, he hoped and prayed that they were alright. They had to be, so far from the capital.

Eight years…Yes, it had only been eight years. Ivan was a fierce fighter, wanting nothing more than to better this country for the sake of everyone in it. He was more than willing to give his life. During a battle when the soldier in charge of him and his "battalion" (if it could even be called that) died, Ivan didn't hesitate to take over, accomplishing a vital victory over a small town just outside the capital. It had a strategic location for rocket launchers. Since then, Ivan had been…a figure. A symbol for the revolution. The nobles that had sparked this revolution with words and sat back while it was fought with weapons appointed him higher and higher. Up until that moment, when he was the main general, marching to the front of the capital building. He could hear cheering among the screams, those few people alive that supported him and his ideal.

Those nobles were there now, years ahead of him in knowledge about everything. Ivan was just some citizen, he didn't mean anything except to fight. These men…they were wise. They knew what was best. They were to be protected at all costs. The soldiers that came forward were fought back easily, especially by Ivan, who, even with a vast array of technology available to him, fought with a sword.

Finally, they reached the doors, Ivan spearheading this tidal wave of chaos. He kicked the door open and walked in as the soldiers around him flooded in as well. Soldiers of the crowns of the surrounding countries surged towards them, but they fell easily, and with plenty of blood. Ivan grimaced, but continued forward anyway, running to keep up with this frenzy.

When he opened the door to the throne room, it all happened too fast for him to register. The nobles had guns, yes, but Ivan had assumed they didn't know how to use them. He was proven wrong when the nobles stepped before him and didn't hesitate to shoot the king and queen, who barely had a chance to stand in shock.

"Braginski," one of the nobles ordered him and Ivan turned to attention. "Shut those damn doors."

Ivan obeyed immediately, he shooed out all of the soldiers inside and turned to leave, shutting the doors behind him.

"You, stay," another noble said clearly. Ivan nodded carefully and shut the doors closed, locking himself inside. It was amazing how much sound was muffled just by those doors and Ivan sighed. That was when he heard it. The crying. Of two infant children. Ivan clenched his jaw tightly, hoping the crying would stop. He was not here to harm the innocent, like those children lying there, unaware of the world but knowing the chaos. He was there to get rid of the corrupt.

He heard an infant screech and immediately turned to face the nobles. They were…laughing. Cruelly. They stood around the twin cribs, one of them with a sharp dagger in hand. It was dripping with blood. Both infants were screeching now, the unharmed one terrified for his brother.

"What are you doing?" Ivan demanded, storming up to the nobles. Their position be damned, he would not sit back and allow them to do this.

"Come now, it can't be that difficult to kill a baby," one noble had the gall to smirk and Ivan felt his anger fume. He reached the cradles and saw that one of the twins had a massive slash across his eyes. Before Ivan could react, another noble had a dagger and did the same to the other twin. Their screeches were deafening.

"Stop!" Ivan commanded. There were about seven of them, but Ivan was, by now, a trained soldier. They were far from it. "Continue and I will-"

"You will what?" a noble snapped. "Kill us?"

"Don't think I won't," Ivan warned. "I joined this to help the innocent, not cause them harm."

"Their blood is far from innocent!" another noble laughed and Ivan gripped his sword tight enough to cause his hand to tremble.

"Think about your next step carefully," another one smirked, holding his bloody dagger happily in the air. "Or perhaps we could do the same to your sisters."

Ivan froze, his eyes wide.

"What." Ivan took a deep breath to steady himself before he did anything rash. "Did you do." Another deep breath. "To my sisters?"

"Nothing yet," a noble smirked and Ivan's stomach twisted into terrible knots. He had left his sisters alone, he had assumed they could protect themselves…But this? What kind of people would dare do something like that? Why would these nobles want this leverage on him? He'd hardly even met the men before. "As long as you obey."

"And," one of the nobles with a knife chimed, slamming his knife down without remorse onto one of the twins. The baby screeched as his arm disconnected from his body. Ivan felt his breathing grow uneven. He had to stop them from doing this…but his sisters were possibly in danger…He couldn't… "Don't interfere."

"What do you want with me?" Ivan asked, his voice shaking without his control as another arm was disconnected from the baby. They should have just killed the children, not forced them through this torture. Not forced Ivan through the torture. He hoped the child would simply bleed out soon, end his own torture.

"You're a symbol, Ivan," one of the nobles said happily, a wicked smile on his face. "We'll need someone like you."

"Why?" Ivan asked darkly.

"We didn't fight," another one shrugged. "We don't mean anything to those savages out there. You, on the other hand. You are very influential."

"We are offering you a position you have no way to refuse," a noble with a knife said. Ivan felt about ready to puke. He could hear the sounds of celebration just outside the door. But all that registered were the screams of the children before him. A leg was disconnected.

"You want me to act as a leader?" Ivan asked carefully.

"This country needs a king to get back on its feet," a noble shrugged.

"Don't worry, you won't even need to make any decisions, we'll do everything for you," another one said. The last leg was gone. Why didn't they just kill the child? "Disobey, and I think you can assume what will happen."

"Fine," Ivan said. Anything for his sisters. As much as it would make his skin crawl to have these men in control of the country, a position like king would give him some leeway, he could do some right to correct all of this wrong.

"Then you can leave, my liege," another noble laughed and Ivan winced. He almost turned to leave. Almost. He saw one of them raised his knife once again on the other twin.

"Stop," Ivan said, his voice near the point of begging. "Please."

"Why?" a noble scoffed. "These vermin deserve this."

"They are children," Ivan snapped. "They won't remember this day or their parents." He had to think of something to convince these men to keep the children alive. Their shrieks were growing weak. "They could be useful to me. Please."

"Let me think," one noble mused, taking a long pause that made Ivan flinch. "Perhaps they could be useful. But you can't slack. Make them completely devoted to you. That would surely be fun."

"Fine," Ivan said.

"And we'll have to work on your tone, you don't sound like a king at all," a noble laughed.

"I am going to fetch a doctor," Ivan all but growled, calmly stepping out of the room. The second the doors closed, however, he started sprinting, moving as fast as he possibly could. He glanced around feverishly, glancing past the soldiers that wanted to toast to him. He found a doctor, who was currently tending an unimportant wound on a soldiers arm. He wasted no time, yanking on the man's shoulders and turning him towards him. "Help."

* * *

Ivan was exhausted. He was about ready to fall asleep, on his desk while he worked. 5 years. He had been a king for 5 years. He was hardly allowed to sleep with the amount of work poured on him for the sake of his new country…No, it wasn't his…He was a puppet, an empty shell. None of the orders or laws he passed were of his own will, anyway. He had even forced back any opposition he had for a law they forced him to pass about slavery, basically allowing it, if not promoting it. He obeyed orders for the sake of his sisters, though he'd never been allowed to see them. Only one picture had been given him at his coronation. As a gift.

"Your Majesty?" a small voice asked from his side and Ivan jumped slightly, looking down to the voice. He knew exactly who it would be.

"Alfred," Ivan smiled slightly. Sure enough, Matthew was standing there, too, hiding shyly behind Alfred. "Matthew."

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" Alfred asked. His glasses drooped on his nose and he clumsily pushed them up his nose, nearly injuring himself with the force of it. Ivan chuckled slightly. The boy never really got accustomed to the strength that came with the fake limbs. Thankfully, their eyes had also been saved thanks to an emergency surgery, though their eyesight was less than desirable and so they required glasses to see properly. Contacts couldn't work over the scars barely visible in their eyes.

"I am fine," Ivan nodded. "Just a bit tired." He had no idea how the two managed to find him, or even get into the capital building in the first place, but they had this uncanny ability to sneak around without being caught. They cared so much for Ivan, it was obvious they were willing to do anything for him, even die. It nearly made Ivan sick to his stomach.

"Then you should sleep, Your Majesty," Matthew spoke quietly, bowing his head as he did.

"I wish I had the luxury," Ivan sighed. "You two should return home." It was a rather large house for just the two of them, just a short distance from the capital building. It had enough rooms to house six, leading Ivan to believe that the nobles above him had a plan in mind he wouldn't like.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Alfred nodded. "We…I mean…Mattie was just worried about you."

"Alfred," Matthew pouted at him and Alfred shrugged innocently.

"We will get out of your way," Alfred muttered and turned to leave. Ivan noticed as he walked that his steps were uneven and Alfred almost seemed to be in pain by the looks of it.

"Alfred," Ivan said and the boy turned to face him. "Do you need new prosthetics?" The boy grew incredibly fast, needing new prosthetics practically every month. It was immensely expensive, but Ivan felt no remorse stealing money from those nobles to help the boy.

"No, Your Majesty, I am fine," Alfred bowed his head, biting his lip slightly.

"If you require new ones, all you need to do is tell me," Ivan sighed. "It is no bother to me, do not hesitate."

"You don't need to care about something as small as that, Your Majesty, you need to sleep," Alfred nodded, standing straight and trying to sound official. Ivan chuckled slightly.

"I will schedule a time for the new surgery," Ivan smiled slightly. "I am sorry, but you will have to deal with the pain for a few more days, most likely."

"Don't worry about me, Your Majesty," Alfred beamed happily. "Thank you for your kindness."

"Thank you," Matthew mimicked him quietly. And then they left. Ivan shook his head, massaging the bridge of his nose. He cared for the boys more than anything, though perhaps they were second only to his sisters. He knew nothing of raising children, though the nobles had no problem with Ivan's one wish of keeping the boys alive. They had proper care, as shown by Alfred's constant need for new prosthetics as he grew. Ivan just wished he could help them more.

* * *

Ivan blinked down at the child in front of him. He had grown accustomed to two children in the past 10 years of his life, but this child was... more new to him. He looked very serious, his brown eyes betraying no emotion and his neat black hair blocking only small bits of his face. He bowed before him. Alfred and Matthew were behind him on either side. Ivan was at a loss for words, glancing to the nobles that stood behind them. They would not rise unless Ivan gave the order, he had already learned that. Whoever had taught them that, Ivan had yet to know.

"This child is named Kiku," a noble man informed simply, a fact Ivan already knew. "He is from that village on the border with Yao's country, as you know."

"Why does he kneel before me?" Ivan asked carefully. He had taken the boy in hoping that he could get along well with Matthew and Alfred. Not to make him like them.

"As a part of your plan, of course, Your Majesty," another noble said and Ivan felt his eye twitch in annoyance.

"Of course, my plan," Ivan sighed. He knew nothing of this plan. Those damn nobles, deciding things without even a word of his own input. "And he will be staying with Alfred and Matthew."

"Of course," a noble nodded. "Your Majesty."

"You may rise," Ivan said simply and the three boys stood, looking at him but not in the eyes. He damned whoever taught them that, too. He missed the boys that would look him in the eye, full of curiosity, didn't care about his standing. Now they were just subjects, completely loyal to him and every word he said. "Kiku. Alfred and Matthew will take good care of you. Please, return to your home."

"Yes, Your Majesty," all three said at once and Ivan visibly winced, though they didn't see it. Ivan watched them leave, closing the door behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ivan demanded from the men in front of him.

"It is our plan, the one you started with those two boys," a noble said simply. "Surely, you do not think that those two have only sat around these past 10 years."

"What have you been doing to them?" Ivan asked, almost scared for the fate those boys had been through.

"In the future, they will be your personal assassins, willing to do anything you wish of them," a noble said and Ivan sat in a stunned silence. Assassins? "Currently, they are training and you are left unprotected, my apologies, Your Majesty."

"Kiku is from a village known for its assassin services, as mercenaries, as you know," another one continued. "He has already been somewhat trained and will be a good example to the twins. And we will be gaining more in the future. That house is far too large for only two of them."

"I do not approve of this," Ivan said simply. "You cannot simply abduct children and expect-"

"What choice do you have, Ivan?" a noble asked coldly and Ivan glared at him from where he sat on that stupid throne.

"If you expect to use my sisters as leverage for me," Ivan breathed evenly, "perhaps you should allow me to see them, even once. At this point, I consider them dead."

"Good guess," a noble laughed and Ivan felt his blood run cold.

"What?" Ivan asked, the word barely making his past his lips.

"Ivan," a noble smirked. "They've been dead for, maybe, 11 years now."

"What?" Ivan snapped.

"I believe you never asked," another noble laughed.

"You…" Ivan was at a loss for words. They had killed his sisters and used them as leverage this whole time? Why? To keep him as their obedient, little, puppet? "Why?"

"I believe the answer to that question is obvious," a noble shrugged. Ivan breathed deeply, ensuring the tears that were racing to his eyes did not show in front of the demons before him. "What do you wish to do, Your Majesty?"

Ivan felt his hands shaking as he stared down the men before him. They had controlled him for ten years, saying his sisters could be in danger. But they were already dead. He was almost happy that they hadn't been tortured through the past 10 years he had thought they were. But now…what did he have left? He was the king, he had no friends, he had nothing. No family.

The closest he had were Matthew and Alfred, the boys that constantly looked up to him and were willing to be completely faithful servants to him. Willing to kill for him.

Ivan hung his head. He was useless, that was what he was. Useless garbage. He was in a place of utmost power, but he was completely powerless. He had no words to describe how much of a…_failure_ he was.

"Exactly what I expected," a noble scoffed and they filed out of the room. Ivan felt himself tremble as the door closed. His sisters had been gone this whole time. They had him on a leash for nothing. Now all he had were the boys. Surely, he couldn't leave them alone.

Ivan balled his hands into trembling fists as the hot tears slipped past his guard. When had he become this empty shell? Devoid of all ability to fight back? Was he any better than the boys brainwashed into obeying him?

* * *

"We need to fight back," a noble said simply.

"Fine," Ivan muttered. "Then we will."

"These revolutionaries need to be stopped," another noble said clearly.

"Do you think the boys are ready?" another one asked.

"It's been three years of rigorous training, will they be any more ready?"

"I will send them if you believe I should," Ivan said simply. Even Kiku was completely devoted to him. Over the past three years, he had offered so much to Ivan, his life, his devotion, everything he had to give. Why? For what? Ivan wasn't anything worth giving something so important to. "If you say they are ready, then they surely are."

"Well, they won't die," a noble laughed. "That would mean disappointing the king they love so much, right? Failure isn't an option for them."

"You are right," Ivan nodded.

"Then we start attacking these revolutionaries," a noble said proudly. The irony was not lost on Ivan. They had been revolutionaries just thirteen years earlier. Now they were fighting back revolutionaries that thought they hadn't done a good enough job. Ivan completely agreed with them.

All of the goals he had, everything that he wanted to accomplish by fighting…none of it happened for him. A new set of nobility was simply placed in power. They would most likely be replaced by other nobility soon, anyway.

* * *

**Yes, Ivan lied about killing their parents. Yes, Ivan lied about chopping off Alfred's limbs. No, Ivan did not sign that law about slavery voluntarily. This is our last backstory. It gives a nice glimpse at some of the history I've mentioned throughout our story. If it's not clear, their country was created by the three countries around them, kind of this little mishmash of a bunch of different ethnicities and peoples. They placed figure-heads as the King and Queen, which where the people the revolutionaries killed. This broke them off from the other three countries, who teamed up with the new revolutionaries to get the country back under their control at the end of our story.**

**Also, we get to see Ivan's motives. Why he did what he did. If any of you were wondering why I didn't put in his sisters, there's a reason. The nobles pulling Ivan's strings knew exactly how to manipulate him and did it very well. That is, if it weren't for Alfred and Matthew, the last things Ivan had left to hold onto. He thought all of his fight had left him, but Alfred and Matthew and their struggles inspired him to rebel just once. And he did everything that he could with that one rebellion. The reason he said what he did to those two before he died was because he wanted not only for Alfred and Matthew to kill him now that his job was done, but also to hate him enough to join with the revolutionaries, who Ivan believed in. He thought the revolutionaries could better his country, but in reality nothing changed with the leadership, there's still figure-heads in charge, being controlled by rich people in the background. I hope everything has fallen in place for all of you by now, if not, feel free to PM me and I'll answer any questions you guys may have.**

**Anyway, this was fun, the story was fun, the backstories were fun, but now it's all done. Completely and absolutely over. This was the last backstory you're gonna get and now I can move onto a new story! How exciting.**

**Anyway, this was fun, and I thank every single person that reviewed, favorited, followed, or even just read. It's that counter that tells me how many people read that kept me going, no matter how many people reviewed. Even if no one reviewed, I saw people were reading it and so that's why I updated. Thank you everyone, every single review meant a lot to me, I read every single one of them and took them all into account. And all of those favorites and follows mean so much to me, they really do.**

**So, thank you everyone.**

**And, for the last time, I do not and never will own Hetalia, in any of its many forms.**


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